


White Nights

by SleepingPatterns



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Biphobia, Bisexual Kylo Ren, Foot Fetish, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Russia, Russia AU, Size Kink, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28046133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepingPatterns/pseuds/SleepingPatterns
Summary: Hux is an administrator at the Saint Petersburg State University who has gotten stuck taking care of a helpless American exchange student named Kylo Ren. Kylo is tragically heterosexual.Or: the Russia AU that nobody asked for.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 59
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, apparently I am now writing "Rus-real" in English—a niche market if I ever saw one.
> 
> This story is inspired by [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280/chapters/53470213), which is truly a masterpiece. I've borrowed many of the Russified names that the author used as tribute. Big thanks go out to [Hechu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hechu/pseuds/Hechu) for her invaluable beta work, and to Xoce, my wonderful Russian reader.
> 
> Notes explaining some of the more Russian aspects/vocabulary of this story are at the end of the chapter.

Even if the man hadn’t been screaming in English, it would have been abundantly clear that he was not Russian. Everything he wore looked just this side of new, like he replaced things instead of repairing them. His trainers were expensive, but he took poor care of them. That, and he was trying to have a conversation in the din of the metro.

“No, I’m on the—I’m on the subway. I’m going there now—”

He leaned over where Hux was seated to look at the map of the metro and his backpack swung off his shoulder and almost hit Hux in the face. Hux leveled him with his most hateful glare, but the American wasn’t paying attention.

The drunk sitting next to Hux snorted.

“Bet he doesn’t even speak Russian. Fucking faggot,” he spat.

Judging from the American’s lack of reaction, the drunk had pegged him correctly. Hux didn’t answer, continuing to glare up at the oblivious tourist. God, he was fucking huge. The train rounded a curve and the man’s backpack swung towards Hux’s face again. Fuck this.

“Could you keep it down?” Hux spoke loudly in his best impersonation of a clipped British accent. “You’re disturbing the other passengers.”

The American looked shocked at being spoken to in English, before glancing around to see half a dozen sets of disapproving eyes on him. A sour look crossed his face and a blush rose on his cheeks.

‘Good,’ thought Hux. If he wanted a genuine Russian experience, then he was due a dose of public humiliation.

“I’ve gotta go.” The American said into his phone, before hanging up. He shoved his fancy iPhone into the back pocket of his jeans. Idiot.

“What did you say to him?” asked the drunk.

“I told him to fuck off,” replied Hux.

The American had shifted down the carriage toward the doors, nervously tucking his dark hair behind comically large ears.

“And his response was to walk away?” The drunk snorted. “So, what they say about American men is true then. Fuckin’ cowards.”

Hux pulled his phone out of his pocket and didn’t look at the stranger again until he saw him exit the carriage out of the corner of his eye. As the train began to accelerate, Hux glanced back to see the American looking lost. He darkly hoped that the naïve asshole had a terrible day.

* * *

Hux tried to finish his greasy _shchi_ at the university cafeteria. His administrative job paid abysmally, and he was exploited and overworked. The sole benefit was that the cafeteria food was so cheap it may as well have been free.

He glanced up at the line and spotted his head of department, Snoke, along with—no, fuck—someone who looked suspiciously like the American from the metro. He stood a head above everyone around him, and even without his coat on he was fucking huge. Hux had a very clear vision of this guy beating his ass right there in the dining hall.

Praying he hadn’t been spotted, Hux doubled down on his effort to choke back lunch. Snoke appeared to be helping the American order his food, as if he was incapable of pointing and grunting like everyone else. Hux saw the effort of the students in the immediate vicinity to appear nonchalant, as if foreigners visited every day. Why couldn’t this idiot have just gone to _Vishka_ instead?

Hux pretended not to notice them until it was unavoidably clear that Snoke was headed in his direction.

“Ah, Arsenii,” Hux despised the oily way that Snoke spoke English. “I’d like to introduce you to our guest. Arsenii Borisovich, meet Kylo Ren. He is here on exchange from New York.”

Hux groaned internally. Not a tourist then. A semi-permanent addition.

“How do you do.” Hux extended his hand. Judging by Ren’s sharp grin and tight grip, he had just figured out how easy it would be for him to screw Hux in this moment.

“Arsenii, Kylo here will be needing a pass for the National Library. Could you please see to it personally?” It was clearly a demand, not a request. “Well, I will leave you two to eat your lunch. Kylo, please make yourself at home. Arsenii will be happy to help you with anything you may need.”

“Are you sure?” asked Kylo, gaze fixed on Hux. “I wouldn’t want to _disturb_ him.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Snoke waved him off, not noticing Hux’s stony expression. “He’d be happy to help. Please, sit.”

Kylo took the seat opposite Hux as Snoke made his goodbyes. Without a word, Kylo picked up a fork and made a go at his beef cutlet and buckwheat. Seemingly unimpressed, he pushed his plate aside and reached for his borscht.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you,” said Hux.

“Is that a threat?” Kylo’s eyebrows shot up.

“No, but Friday is borscht day.”

“Today is Monday.”

Hux just stared in reply. Kylo peered down at the soup for a minute, before pulling the plate with his cutlet on it back toward him.

“So, you can get me into the library?”

“I will give you the proper paperwork, yes.”

“Have they got English books there?”

“Some.”

“History books?”

“I would assume so.”

Kylo peered up at him from where he was hunched over his plate.

“You speak English weird. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Hux felt his face flush and struggled to keep his expression blank.

“Weird how?”

“Really formal. And your accent is like, British, but not. Some of your vowels are… off.” Kylo imitated Hux’s accent to make his point. “Who taught you anyway?”

“I learned from television, mostly.”

“Bullshit,” said Kylo. “You don’t learn to speak English that well from reruns of Frazier.”

“It was Friends, actually.” Hux basked in the compliment. Kylo looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

“So, the library. You’ll give me a card, and then I just show up?”

“No you have to—” Hux pictured the Russian-language labyrinth of administrators and paperwork that Kylo was going to have to navigate. He pictured Snoke’s furious face when Kylo returned to the university empty handed; the humiliation and revenge that Kylo would inflict on Hux. “You know what, I’ll take you myself.”

“Thanks,” Kylo looked pleased, and went back to eating lunch. They both seemed to be pretending that their first meeting had not taken place, which suited Hux just fine.

* * *

They rode the metro in silence. Their positions were now reversed, with Hux standing over Kylo, swaying slightly as the train rounded corners. Kylo scrolled through his phone, the reception intermittent between stations.

The person seated next to Kylo got off at the next stop and Hux took his place.

Across from them sat a young woman in a fur coat reading a book. The coat came down to her waist, incongruous with her short skirt. She wore stockings and high stilettos. Her hair and makeup were impeccable. Out of the corner of his eye, Hux saw Kylo stare. A glance in the reflection of the window opposite confirmed it: Kylo’s eyes were glued to her legs.

Well, the American was “natural.” Hux hadn’t been holding out hope exactly, but he could admit to himself that he was disappointed. Kylo was his type—tall, and broad, and built. He moved with the confidence of a man who hadn’t had to fake his heterosexual mannerisms since childhood. Hux always tried very hard to give off the same impression of masculinity. He wanted men that sounded and acted like men, and wanted them to want him for the same reason.

Kylo was still staring at the legs of the woman sitting opposite. Hux glanced at Kylo’s thighs on the bench next to him. They were massive, and thick. He had a fleeting fantasy of what it would feel like to have them clamp down around his head, his tongue in Kylo’s ass. Uncomfortable, Hux averted his gaze to stare at the metro map.

Kylo was beyond useless when they arrived at the library. He strode in, full of brash confidence, and immediately drew the ire of the woman in the registry office. He loudly asked Hux where the pens were, before he realized that he couldn’t read the damn form anyway and made Hux fill it out for him. He had to pull his entire backpack apart to find his passport, his shit spilling all over the floor. The registrar made eye contact with Hux and rolled her eyes.

“My condolences on your babysitting job,” she said to him in Russian.

Hux barked out a laugh. “Thank God it is temporary.”

Kylo had gone quiet, shoving his things back into his bag. Hux didn’t have the heart to tell him that backpacks were not allowed in the reading room.

While the registrar was entering his information into the computer, Kylo caught sight of a bust of Lenin on the other side of the security turnstiles.

“Did Lenin study here?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Hux snorted. “Yes, Lenin studied here.”

“Why is that funny?”

“We are in Saint Petersburg, where hasn’t Lenin been? Or Dostoyevsky for that matter.” Hux thought the latter was much more impressive.

Kylo looked starstruck. He remained subdued until, as Hux predicted, there was a fuss at the coatroom.

“You’re not allowed to bring your rucksack into the library with you. You have to leave it here.”

“What? No. It has my laptop in it. And my wallet.”

The babushka who manned the coatroom was shaking a fob at Kylo and gesturing to his backpack, a look of frustration on her face.

“Look, it is you versus this woman, and my money is on her. Take the stuff you want out and leave the bag here.”

Hux tried to hold back his laughter as Kylo walked up the carpeted stairs to the main reading room with his pockets stuffed and arms full of random shit. He pointed Kylo in the right direction, told him to get his pass stamped by the librarian, and made to leave.

“Wait—you aren’t going to help me with the books?”

“I do have a job, you know. I have to get back to the university before anyone has a chance to complain about my absence.”

A look of panic flashed across Kylo’s face.

“I’ll—I’ll tell Snoke I made you stay and help me.”

That…was actually not a bad idea. Snoke would be furious, but he couldn’t do or say anything to insult their precious foreign exchange student. Hux would much rather spend the rest of his day taking care of Kylo than managing Snoke’s email and departmental paperwork.

“Fine,” said Hux, “but if anyone asks, you insisted.”

Kylo was visibly relieved as they walked into the reading room together.

With Hux taking care of the parts of the process that required Russian, things went surprisingly smoothly. Kylo seemed to only order books on Soviet leadership in the 1940s and 50s. He asked Hux to translate some of the Russian ones he thought looked relevant and was very judicious about what would and would not be useful. Hux would give him an overview of a paragraph or chapter, and he would either shake his head or take notes. A few times Kylo asked him to focus on a specific sentence, parsing it word for word and asking lots of questions about why Hux was translating it the way he was. Hux considered him an idiot for coming to Russia without speaking the language, but he was starting to suspect that Kylo was a very good student.

They worked steadily until the bells rang out, indicating that readers should pack up their things and return their books.

“I think I know what I want my research project to be about, but I would need your help.” Kylo seemed upbeat and invigorated as they stepped out of the library and walked in the crisp air toward the metro.

“Oh?”

“How would you feel if I insisted that you leave the office and help me once a week?”

One day a week free from Snoke. Hux could barely believe his luck.

“I would be…not at all opposed.”

“ _Not at all opposed,”_ Kylo parroted back, imitating Hux’s rounded vowels. Hux glared up at him to see a small grin on Kylo’s face. Was Kylo… teasing him?

“In that case, see you around Ahrsenee—”

“Please, just call me Hux.”

“Hux?” Kylo looked confused. “Is that your last name?”

“A childhood nickname. It stuck.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” Kylo grinned at him as they parted. “See ya, Hux.”

Hux took the metro all the way out to the furthest reach of the city, and then took a _marshrutka_ even further. The suburbs around Saint Petersburg were an endless series of soulless apartment buildings, each forty stories tall and filled with people who didn’t want to live there. Some of the architects had made an attempt to cheer things up with bright exteriors, but the result was buildings that were both gaudy and impossible to ignore.

He let himself into his studio apartment and collapsed onto the bed. He was exhausted, but spending so much time as the focus of Kylo’s attention had him worked up. He opened Grindr and scrolled through the profiles. Half of them looked fake, but one or two were promising and available.

_hey cutie, wanna fuck? i love gingers_

The notification popped up and he navigated over to the guy’s profile to see if it was worth his time. He was decent looking, and one picture included the bottom half of his face. He had an attractive jawline and lips.

_Maybe. How tall are you?_

_190 cm_

He was probably lying, but even rounding down, that was decent. Hux gave him the same spiel he gave all his hookups:

_I live in Murino, and you can travel to me. I don’t do anal, and you can’t sleep over._

_deal. whats your address?_

Hux spent a frankly ridiculous portion of his salary on this apartment and his commute was hell, but at least he got to live alone. For moments like this, it was worth it.

He jumped in the shower while he was waiting for the guy to arrive and didn’t bother to dress afterwards. The sex was fine, nothing to write home about. The guy gave him a decent handjob, and Hux blew him until it was clear he was going to take forever and opted to finish with his hand instead. The guy’s Russian wasn’t great, and he was clearly from Tajikistan or Kyrgyzstan, or somewhere East. He was circumcised, so Hux guessed he was Muslim. He was cute, but not the brightest—he’d forgotten to take off his wedding ring when they’d fucked.

Hux gave him a minute after he came, before unceremoniously telling him to go. The guy got dressed and left without complaint.

Hux lay naked in bed and searched for Kylo on social media. He couldn’t find him on facebook, but apparently someone had set him up with a VK profile. It was sparse, with a single picture and information about what he was studying at SPBU. Hux’s finger hovered over the “add friend” button, before tapping it and putting his phone away for the evening.

He thought about the teasing smirk that Kylo had given him as they left the library. He’d had crushes on straight men before—that wasn’t new. This would be slightly more tragic, as Kylo would leave at the end of the academic year. Even if he miraculously did manage to get into Kylo’s pants, there was no hope of anything serious developing. Hux’s pining would be time limited, and in a way, that was a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. [ A typical Saint Petersburg metro carriage](https://aif-s3.aif.ru/images/012/861/585f2dd36f02ca600bc3a6a3a880badf.jpg)
>   
> 
>   2. [_Shchi_ ](https://www.povarenok.ru/data/cache/2017mar/25/34/1962386_28059-710x550x.jpg)— A traditional Russian cabbage soup, often served with sour cream.
>   
> 
>   3. _Vishka_ \- Hux is using the nickname for the Higher School of Economics, which is where international students tend to end up.
>   
> 
>   4. “Well, the American was _‘natural.’_ ” — this is one of the ways to call someone heterosexual in Russian, and reflects a lot of the latent homophobia in the Russian language.
>   
> 
>   5. [The Universal Reading Room](http://nlr.ru/eng/dep/artupload/eng/article/RA2481/NA19027.jpg) at the National Library in Saint Petersburg. Let’s face it, the real suspension of disbelief here is the fact that Hux and Kylo were speaking to each other in the reading room.
>   
> 
>   6. [_Marshrutka_](https://www.1obl.ru/upload/resize_cache/iblock/f12/827_465_2/f12b099e9ee2a7a7d57bd39c73e2389d.jpg) — what I mentally refer to as “renegade transportation.” Marshrutkas are basically off-brand busses that follow routes in underserviced areas. Unlike busses, you can flag them down anywhere, and have them drop you off at any point. The driver is responsible for collecting the fare, making change, driving at breakneck speed, stopping to pick up any random person who wants on, and dropping people off wherever they request. He will sometimes check his phone while doing so. I have feared for my life on more than one _marshrutka_. 
>   
> 
>   7. Grindr — I’ve been reliably informed that no one really uses Grindr in Russia, that more people use Hornet. For the sake of not having to explain a new app I left Grindr in, but if you ever find yourself looking for a hookup in Russia, now you know.
>   
> 
>   8. VK profile — The most popular Russian social networking site. There is a Russian equivalent website for everything on the internet. Fun fact: One morning I woke up and Google had just stopped working. Gmail, drive, translate, search, all of Google. You had to use a VPN to access it. There was a political showdown between Google and the Russian internet censorship board, so the government just shut it down. No one but the foreigners even noticed it had happened, because Russians all use Yandex.
>   
> 
>   9. SPBU — Saint Petersburg State University, one of the more prestigious universities in Saint Petersburg, if not Russia.   
> 
> 

> 
> Additional fun fact: Drunk men cursed me out on the metro for my English _multiple times._ Unfortunately, unlike Kylo, I could understand them. One of them told me that he was so patriotic and loved Russia so intensely that he would be willing to “spear his wife like a kebab and roast her for Putin.” So that was fun.
> 
> Second fun fact: Multiple Russians told me that they learned English from watching TV and it appears to be true???? Incredibly impressive. At the risk of offending my English-speaking Russian friends, I would say that the majority of Russians do not speak much English at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter update! I've got about 25k of this story written already, and show no signs of slowing down. The next bit should be up within a week or so.
> 
> The real hero of this chapter is my Russian reader Xoce, who has really helped me shape this story into something infinitely more compelling than when I began it. She pointed out that I've painted a decently gloomy picture of Saint Petersburg, which isn't entirely fair. This story is more of a snapshot of my first three months in Russia, which was a very painful adjustment period. I stayed for three more years after that though, and am planning to return as soon as I can, so please do know that things are not always as bleak and unfriendly as I have portrayed them here. 
> 
> Also Hux is a whiny and unreliable narrator, so there is that.

“So, what do you do at the university?”

“Oh god, _this_ conversation? American small talk is intolerable.”

“What? It’s a reasonable question.”

“Who cares what I do? You know it’s boring, I know it's boring. Why subject both of us to a _conversation_ about it?”

Kylo didn’t speak as they walked toward the library and Hux began to regret being short with him. The silence stretched until it made Hux uncomfortable.

“Tell me about your research project.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is _that_ an acceptable topic of conversation?”

“Fine, you really want to know? I do administrative work. I answer emails, I write economics papers, I proofread statistical tables. I do menial grunt work, and the pay is shit. How is this going so far? Are you feeling the overwhelming urge to walk into the canal?”

Kylo laughed. Apparently, the bitchier Hux got the more amusing Kylo found him.

“If it's so bad, why don’t you quit?”

Hux sighed. “I wish I could, but my contract is until August. That, and Snoke is one of the best-known economists in Russia, meaning that if I want a decent job in my field I’ll need a reference letter from him.”

“Ah, he’s a good guy though. I’m sure he’ll help out.”

Hux didn’t mention that Snoke had been punishing him relentlessly for spending Thursdays in the library with Kylo. Hux was still expected to complete his regular workload, but Snoke kept dumping increasingly impossible tasks on his desk. He seemed to take genuine pleasure in watching Hux struggle.

Hux pulled out his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Kylo.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

“Why not? It’s cheap here.” Kylo looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“Because it’s terrible for you! You’ll get cancer.”

Kylo was looking at him earnestly, as if this shocking news would cause Hux to flick his cigarette to the ground in horror. Hux wondered if all Americans were this exhaustingly sincere.

“Kylo, do you really love your life so much that you wish to extend it?”

Kylo’s jaw dropped. “Yes! I do! Christ, Hux, what is wrong with you?”

Hux shrugged, making eye contact with Kylo as he relished in an extra long drag.

“Suit yourself.”

Kylo just stared at him for a minute before a slow grin crept along his face, as if Hux had done something clever.

“You Russians are fucking crazy. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Kylo stood with him outside the library as he finished his cigarette, even though it was starting to get cold and Kylo wasn’t wearing a hat.

“I can meet you inside if you’d prefer,” Hux said.

“Nah, I don’t mind. I’ll wait.”

Hux blew a cloud of smoke in Kylo’s general direction and watched his nose scrunch up in distaste. He got the feeling that Kylo did mind, but didn’t want to go anywhere by himself. Hux put out his cigarette a bit earlier than he might have otherwise, and they pushed their way inside the heavy wooden doors.

“So, how did you end up here with all of us crazy Russians?”

“I’m a historian,” Kylo shrugged. “I wanted to do my senior project on Russia, so I’m here on exchange.”

“SPBU doesn’t have an exchange program.”

“I know, I’m a special case.” Kylo grinned. He was so fucking full of himself.

“Why didn’t you go somewhere with classes in English? With other foreigners?”

“Snoke reached out and offered to set everything up for me. My parents were furious that I wanted to go in the first place, so I needed all the help I could get.”

Kylo was wary of the coatroom attendant, but things went significantly more smoothly this time. Other than ordering and fetching books in English, there wasn’t much for Hux to do. Relishing in his time off, Hux mostly messed around on his phone. At one point, he spotted Kylo doing the same.

“Want to get lunch?” Hux asked.

“Sure.”

The fact that the library had a cafeteria seemed to blow Kylo’s mind. It could have been described as a literal hole in the wall, if not for a few square meters of seating space. It had clearly been last renovated in the eighties. The linoleum floors were peeling up around the edges, and the washed-out pastel curtains poorly hid the bars on the windows behind them.

Kylo made Hux recite the entire menu, before purchasing way too much food for one person. When he took a seat at the rickety table, Hux’s tray looked practically empty in comparison.

“The portions here are tiny,” Kylo complained, shoving _plov_ into his mouth.

“I’m not certain you know what a normal portion looks like.” Hux’s eyebrows were raised so high he felt his facial muscles straining. He watched the ungracious way Kylo leaned over his plate. “My God, you eat like an animal.”

Kylo barked out a laugh, his mouth full of rice. It echoed uncomfortably loudly in the small room. Hux spotted the disapproving glare of an older man reading a newspaper at the table across from them. Kylo didn’t notice.

“You’re either really funny, or really rude. Honestly, I can’t tell.”

No one had ever described Hux as funny—not once in his life—but he wasn’t about to tell Kylo that.

They ate in silence, in what turned into their regular Thursday routine. Hux would meet Kylo at the metro in the morning—never too early, or Kylo would be grumpy—and they would spend the day working on whatever it was that Kylo wanted. Hux had no idea what Kylo did with the rest of his time, or how he spent his weekends. If he was taking language classes he showed no improvement, and Hux saw no proof that he had any friends.

Hux did once see Kylo surrounded by a gaggle of girls in the hallway near his office. As he pinned up announcements on the notice board, he heard one of them make introductions.

“This is Kylo, my friend from America.”

“Does he speak Russian?” another asked.

“ _Good day_ ,” Kylo said, in the most god-awful accent Hux had ever heard. It was the first time he’d heard Kylo speak a single word of Russian, and he now understood why. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard. The girls seemed to think it was hilarious.

Listening in, it became abundantly clear that none of them actually spoke English well enough to communicate with Kylo. The one who had introduced him appeared to know nothing about him, seeming more interested in showing off her “foreign friend” than she was in spending time with him. For the first time, it occurred to Hux that Kylo might be lonely.

“Do you have any friends at the student dormitory?” Hux asked over lunch, as he cut his chicken into pieces.

“Sure, I’ve got a roommate,” Kylo said, shoveling cabbage slaw into his mouth. No matter how many glares Hux gave him, he seemed incapable of feeling shame about his table manners. “We get drunk on weekends, but I don’t understand a goddamn thing he says. We just go out to clubs and get shitfaced.”

“Fun,” said Hux. Kylo shrugged.

“Not much else to do.”

“Don’t you want to go to museums? See the Hermitage?”

Kylo looked at him suspiciously.

“That’s art, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Not interested.”

“There’s an arcade game museum.” Hux had never been, on the grounds that it was around the corner from the Russian Museum. He couldn’t imagine a world where he would pick the former over the latter.

“Can you play ‘em?”

“Yes, I believe that is the point.”

Kylo seemed interested now.

“Take me.”

“My God, with those manners, who could resist?”

“Pretty please Hux, will you _please_ take me to the only good museum?”

“Fine, yes, but you have to let me take you to the Hermitage next.”

Kylo glared at him, but Hux suspected that facing another Saturday getting drunk with his incomprehensible roommate, Kylo would go almost anywhere for the chance at a real conversation.

“Fine.”

And that was how Hux somehow extended his babysitting hours to include both Thursdays and weekends.

* * *

Hux’s phone dinged as he was headed out the door to meet Kylo at the library.

_would u be mad if we did something different today_

Honestly, if he hadn’t had proof that Kylo was a native English speaker, Hux would have had his doubts.

_“Different,” such as?_

_im going to look at apartments and it would be good to have help_

_if i have to live in this dormitory for another month im gonna scream_

_please hux_

_That would be fine, just please do not inform the university._

_ok_

_thanks_

_meet at vasilevstrovskoi station at 10?_

What had he planned to do if Hux had said no? This was the shoddy planning and atrocious spelling that he was coming to expect from Kylo.

_Yes. Fine._

Kylo sent back a kissy emoji, which Hux assumed was just to piss him off.

As he was travelling after rush hour, the commute into the city center was almost peaceful. It put Hux in a good mood—which lasted up until he learned just how much Kylo was willing to pay in rent.

“The agent says that this one costs 65,000 rubles a month.” Hux said coolly, watching as Kylo opened and closed the kitchen cabinets. Hux’s monthly salary was capped at 35,000. Kylo hummed.

“That’s because there is a second bedroom, right?”

“Yes, I assume so.”

“Right, good. Yeah, I like it.”

The flat was old fashioned, with oppressive Soviet furniture and faded floral wallpaper. It was, however, two minutes from the university, and light poured through tall windows onto the original hardwood floors. Hardwood floors that extended into both bedrooms.

It did not look like Kylo was planning to live with a roommate. What he wanted with a second room all to himself, Hux did not know. A place to lay all his money on the floor and roll around in it, apparently.

The real estate agent seemed to be wondering the same thing.

“Does he have a wife?” he asked in Russian.

Hux snorted. “No, he does not.”

“Ask him if someone else is going to live here with him.”

“Kylo, are you planning on having a housemate?”

“What? No.” The agent’s eyebrows went up.

“He must be fucking loaded. How much is he paying you?” Hux gave the agent the haughtiest glare he could muster. On the one hand, he wanted to protect Kylo from this asshole. On the other, he didn’t want to admit that he was fool enough to be doing this for free.

“Fine, fine, forget I asked.” The agent pulled out his cellphone. “I’ve got to go call the owner and ask if she’ll take a foreign tenant.”

“An _American_ tenant,” Hux corrected, “and one who is willing to pay this exorbitant price.”

Half of the listings for the fancy apartments that Kylo had shown Hux had explicitly stated that they were only available to “ethnic Russians,” but what that really meant is that they were unwilling to rent to workers from the Caucuses. Or so Hux had thought.

“She said no foreigners, sorry.”

“What? Are you serious? Did you tell her he is rich and wants to live here alone? She’ll save on the water bill by half!”

“Yes, sorry, she said no foreigners.”

Hux stared at him, slack jawed, before stalking toward the front hall.

“Kylo, we’re going now.”

“This one’s taken?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Where is the next one on your list?”

They saw three more apartments before they managed to find one that didn’t mind Americans and—thank god—had a price tag that was closer to Hux’s total salary, instead of double it. It was a studio, near the metro, but at a station a little farther from the city center. The building was new, and the apartment was stylishly furnished—everything from IKEA. They went to the corner store and bought a bottle of wine to celebrate.

“You’re paying for the wine and you are buying me dinner too, now that I’ve seen what kind of apartment you can afford.” Kylo laughed as if Hux was kidding. He seemed to be in an excellent mood.

“I’ve never lived in a single room before. Anything will be better than the student dorm though. That place was awful.”

“You do realize that they probably gave you the nicest room there.”

Kylo shuddered.

“Honestly, I don’t know how Russians do it.”

“You would be surprised what one can become accustomed to out of necessity.”

Kylo shot him a look that Hux suspected was pity.

They ended up having to go back to the store once they realized that Kylo’s new apartment didn’t have a wine bottle opener. Kylo then let Hux order food for them on an app, as the menus were all in Russian. He seemed entirely ambivalent about what they ordered, requesting it be “anything but pork.”

“Good God, you really need to learn Russian,” Hux said absently, as he scrolled through sushi rolls. If Kylo was paying, he was going to eat well tonight.

“Then teach me,” there was an angry edge to Kylo’s voice.

“Don’t you think I do enough for you?” Hux joked, but Kylo seemed to be gearing up for a legendary sulk. “Actually, there is something I need your help on.”

“Oh?”

“I need a native English speaker to look over a university application for me. Would you mind?”

“Not at all, I’d be happy to.” Kylo’s enthusiasm seemed genuine. Was he so desperate to feel useful that he was actually excited to look over Hux’s application?

Apparently yes, as he brought it up again over dinner.

“So, what’s this application for?”

“A master’s in economics at LSE.”

“London, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Why LSE?”

“It’s the London School of Economics, Kylo. It is one of the best programs in the world for what I want to do. That, and they offer scholarships for Russian students, provided they promise to return to Russia for a period after they graduate.”

“No shit. That would be nice.”

“Yes,” Hux said primly. “It would be.”

Kylo chewed on his sushi, seemingly deep in thought. In a flash of pettiness, Hux took the last piece of what appeared to be Kylo’s favorite. His provocation went unnoticed, as Kylo’s phone began to ring facedown on the table.

Kylo checked the display, looked at Hux, and rolled his eyes.

“I’ve got to take this,” he said, putting down his chopsticks, before shutting himself in the bathroom for some privacy.

‘Enjoy,’ thought Hux, ‘the wonders of studio living.’ He relished the thought of Kylo finally experiencing the things that he’d had to deal with his entire life. Though unlike Hux’s place, this apartment was beautiful. He looked at the stylish pullout couch and imagined Kylo jerking off there later. Fuck. He poured the last of the wine into his own cup, and then, feeling a little guilty, poured a bit from his cup into Kylo’s.

Hux had finished eating, and almost considered stealing some of Kylo’s wine back before the phone call was over and Kylo sat back down to eat the last of his food.

“Who was that?”

“Hm? Oh, just a friend.”

“You must miss them.”

“Honestly?” Kylo popped a piece of sushi in his mouth, “No. At first it was hard, but now I’m alright. I think they miss me more than I miss them.”

Hux wasn’t sure how to respond. One day soon, Kylo would leave Saint Petersburg and embark on his next adventure. He would probably remember Hux as his strange, bitchy assistant. That he would be forgotten was to be expected, but it was disappointing all the same.

“I suppose I understand. I don’t miss anyone from my hometown.”

“Not even your parents?”

“Especially my parents.”

“Oh.” Kylo was clearly restraining himself from asking more.

“My childhood was pretty shit. Both my parents worked, so they would dump me with my grandparents. My grandfather was an angry drunk, and everyone was _oh so disappointed_ I didn’t want to work at the automobile factory when I grew up. They never quite approved of me, so I left.”

It was unnerving to be the sustained focus of Kylo’s attention.

“What about your friends?”

“They come visit occasionally, but it's expensive, and I suspect they just want a place to stay in the city. I don’t miss them.”

“How did you make new friends here?”

“Clubs, mostly.” Hux didn’t want to disclose which type. “What about you? Have you made friends here?”

“I joined a soccer team. Don’t need to speak Russian to know what’s going on. The guys seem cool.”

“Oh.” That showed…more initiative than Hux had been expecting. It also explained how Kylo seemed to be in such good shape.

“We should go out sometime.”

“We do go out, Kylo. I drag you to museums and parks and you spend the time complaining like a sullen child.”

“I mean go out at night, you know, to clubs.”

“You didn’t go out enough with your roommate?”

“Nah, honestly, we went to the same boring ones every week on Rubenstein to try and pick up girls. You seem like you’d go somewhere more interesting.”

The compliment was almost incentive enough to agree, but Kylo wasn’t blind. One step inside and Kylo would immediately know exactly what kind of _interesting_ clubs Hux frequented.

“You overestimate me, I think.”

Kylo shrugged and kept that very intense gaze on Hux’s face as he finished his wine. Hux already knew he was going to jerk off later imagining Kylo watching him while he did it.

“Should we get another bottle of something?” Hux asked.

“It’s past ten—they won’t sell to us.”

“I’ve been doing a terrible job as a tour guide if you think that Russian law is an obstacle, Kylo.”

Hux found the nearest twenty-four hour “bar,” which looked identical to any other official liquor store, except that it technically sold food. The employees opened—and then immediately resealed—any bottles you purchased.

They wandered around Kylo’s new neighborhood in the dark, taking turns swigging from a massive bottle of shitty wine. For once, Hux managed to be unselfconscious about how loudly they were speaking English. He even fantasized that someone on the street might mistake him for a foreigner.

Hux ran to catch the last metro home. The alcohol meant that when he finally jerked off he lasted forever, the memory of Kylo’s intense gaze eventually pushing him over the edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. “Do you really love your life so much that you wish to extend it?” — This is based on a line from Nina Tumarkin’s masterpiece, _The Living and the Dead_. She describes the “relaxed fatalism” of Russians, which tends to be much more accepting of mortality than we are in the West. The introduction to this book really helped me understand Russian culture when I first arrived, and I strongly recommend it.
>   2. “Kylo wasn’t wearing a hat” — Russians are goddamn obsessed with wearing hats in cold weather. If you do not wear a hat, you will die, and it will be entirely your fault. 
>   3. “SPBU doesn’t have an exchange program.” — Probably not true. 
>   4. “The portions here are tiny” — Kylo is not wrong. Russian portions are very small in comparison to America. To be fair, they are also significantly more affordable.
>   5. [_Plov_](https://www.delonghi.com/Global/recipes/multifry/704.jpg)
>   6. [Cabbage slaw](https://ifs.cook-time.com/preview/img80/80752.jpg) — Theres something called “vitamin salad” in Russia, which I am not convinced is either nutritious or salad. It is, however, very tasty.
>   7. [Arcade Game Museum](http://www.saint-petersburg.com/museums/museum-of-soviet-arcade-machines/) — This exists! It’s great!
>   8. “65,000 rubles a month” — 65k translates into roughly $890. This is a pretty huge chunk of change for your average Saint Petersburg resident, but compared to Kylo’s NYC rent it would seem amazing. Hux’s salary is below average.
>   9. “Oppressive Soviet furniture” — [Every.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4a0fa1b1961cc2f7a987efd4bba6e515/bde2c71acadfe880-ae/s640x960/1db3154750830ab992a6eae9abfa17278d2ab075.jpg) [Apartment](https://64.media.tumblr.com/851c4f244e2f8a3b39cd464db3d26f4f/bde2c71acadfe880-e9/s1280x1920/ef00838db00e8f1df011cdbd2a015255c6a66959.jpg). [Comes with](https://64.media.tumblr.com/938eb7e6b827aedd030aedf55f3cbd66/bde2c71acadfe880-5e/s640x960/56dabc75a453f3ef404ee2cfb6a06a3dbd1f191d.jpg). [A massive](https://64.media.tumblr.com/dd7e4e58255febc5244e4670d60e0640/bde2c71acadfe880-33/s640x960/4bbfdb800168dc78fda340fbb8dd435a86f3e90c.jpg). [Soviet Bookcase](https://64.media.tumblr.com/15568fe345b0222196745e3e92d8ea19/bde2c71acadfe880-cc/s1280x1920/d6920ba5cada2330543408a5a6bda3955924f8f4.jpg).
>   10. “They probably gave you the nicest room there” — I once complained to my roommate about having to share a tiny kitchen with 15 teenagers, and she told me that I should be grateful there were only 15 of them and no cockroaches. I was also given a room with only one roommate, like most of the other white foreigners I knew. Most Russians or students from the Caucuses or Africa were in four person rooms.
>   11. “They offer scholarships for Russian students” — I don’t actually know what LSE’s scholarship offerings are like, but I do know that a couple British universities do offer this type of scholarship. Russia has a real dearth of highly educated workers, who often end up moving abroad for better opportunities.
> 



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There will be a new chapter tomorrow too! Happy New Years!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here’s the deal, I’ve written some fictitious Soviet history based on real events, and honestly? It makes me very uncomfortable.  
> After much thought, here is the conclusion I’ve come to: fictional accounts of history are fine—and maybe even good—if they are acknowledged as fictional, and if they maybe inspire the reader to explore the topic further.  
> With that in mind, please know that I’ve made up some historical characters and events in this chapter. If you would like more information on my writing process and to read my sources, you can check out the notes at the end of the chapter.

The deadline for Hux’s application drew closer, and he began to get nervous that Kylo had forgotten about it. Hux had emailed it to him weeks ago and had heard nothing about it since. He was too embarrassed to follow up, alternating between the foolish hope that Kylo was just being thorough, and the prayer that he didn’t need help after all. The truth was that Hux was desperate; the only other English-speaking academic he knew was Snoke, and asking him for help was out of the question.

He finally bucked up his courage and asked Kylo how it was progressing. He was pretty sure Kylo lied to his face when he said he’d been working on it this whole time.

“When’s it due?” Kylo asked.

“Two weeks from now, Saturday at midnight.”

“Alright, you can come over that Saturday, and we can go over it together before you submit it.”

It was on the tip of Hux’s tongue to say that he would rather not leave it to the last minute, but his fleeting assertive streak had burned out.

In the meantime, he had a more pressing concern.

The application required two reference letters. Hux had already gotten one from his former employer, who had been more than happy to let Hux write his own letter and blindly submit it. The second reference, unfortunately, needed to be an academic one.

For the most part, Hux had been a haughty and unlikeable student during his undergraduate. He had not ingratiated himself with his professors, and none of them were of any academic renown outside of Russia anyway.

He did, however, know one esteemed economist.

Hux tried to work up the courage for weeks to ask Snoke for a letter of reference. He wrote and deleted multiple email drafts and mentally rehearsed his request on a loop. Finally, with his hands trembling slightly, he managed to broach the subject.

“Vladimir Leonidovich, I was wondering if I might ask a favor. I was thinking of applying to master’s programmes abroad, and—”

“Oh no, Arsenii, I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” Snoke’s lips twitched up in a smirk. “Firstly, your work here at the university is  _ far  _ too valuable for me to be able to let you go next year.”

Hux’s heart stopped in his chest. Snoke couldn’t compel him to renew his contract, could he?

“Secondly, I’ve seen your original research and it is—hm, what shall we say—not the correct caliber for foreign universities. And thirdly, I don’t think there is a world in which your English would be sufficient enough to study at that level.”

“I beg your pardon, but I performed very well on my—”

“Regardless, I would very strongly discourage you from applying. Is this what you do with the time the university pays you for, hm? Trawl through other universities’ webpages? Your work has already taken such a hit now that you spend one day a week…assisting our Mr. Ren. I would hate to think that you have been misappropriating your time.”

Hux flushed.

“No sir, of course not.”

“Good. In that case, I need you to work up the charts for that newest paper on factor models by Wednesday, and this time, please do double check your work.”

Hux wanted to ask why, if his work wasn’t the “correct caliber,” that he was writing Snoke’s publications in the first place, but he held his tongue.

“That will be all.” Snoke had moved on, sorting through the papers that were strewn across his desk. Hux let himself out.

* * *

The next two weeks were the most stressful of Hux’s life. Snoke seemed to want to punish him for even considering leaving, dumping a pile of work on Hux’s desk on top of all his administrative duties. Hux skipped all of his lunch breaks and swore under his breath as he chain smoked out the office window.

To top if off, he still didn’t have an academic reference and couldn’t think of who to ask. The website explicitly stated that incomplete applications would not be considered. He opened the portal again and again, staring at the blank box under “Referee Two.”

The idea came to him during another late night at the office.

He opened a Word document and typed out a glowing letter of reference, complete with all the specifics that LSE mentioned they were looking for in a candidate. He gave himself credit for his best work on one of Snoke’s more successful publications. Hux then fetched a coffee from the godawful machine in the lobby, even though his heart was already racing. He summoned as much of his focus as humanly possible to edit the English for errors. He was used to writing in Snoke’s voice, considering he was so often the author behind his work, and he hoped it would suffice.

He navigated to the application portal, before slowly and deliberately entering Snoke’s credentials and email address as his second reference. He hit submit.

Surely enough, on Hux’s computer, an email popped up in Snoke’s inbox. Working quickly, Hux printed off the reference letter on Snoke’s letterhead, forging his signature, and adding the university stamp at the bottom of the page. He scanned the letter and uploaded the file according to the directions in the email.

His hands were shaking by the time the deed was done. He tore, folded, and shoved the original letter into his backpack to dispose of at home. He deleted the scanned files, and then—most importantly—deleted the evidence from Snoke’s inbox. He almost had a heart attack when he realized he came close to missing the email that confirmed that the letter had been uploaded. The chance of Snoke catching any emails before Hux did was slim—Snoke acted pretentious about his correspondence, but Hux suspected that he just hated using technology that he didn’t understand. Regardless, Hux didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

He didn’t believe in God, but at that moment Hux prayed that LSE wouldn’t follow-up or send any further emails. He could feel his blood pounding at the thought.

He had trouble focusing on the rest of his work and ended up staying at the office much later than he had expected. As he fell into bed that night, for the first time in years, Hux felt something akin to hope. It was possible he’d just blown up his life, but he had given himself a chance at something new, slim as it may be.

* * *

“God, you have a real morbid crush on Skazanov.”

“Why do you say that?” Kylo’s voice was tense. Hux gestured to the stack of books on the library desk before them, all of them biographies.

“You’ve made your entire project about Russian history’s greatest asshole. You could have chosen someone more nuanced, like Trotsky or something, but no, you went for the worst one.”

“Shut up.”

After weeks of Kylo teasing him for his accent and formal speech, Hux was delighted to find something to rile Kylo up.

“No, but really. It’s not even like you are just talking about all the horrifying shit he did, it seems like you are actually looking for good things people wrote about his life. Hold on, is that what you are researching?”

“Shut up, Hux.”

“Holy shit!” Hux lowered his voice “That’s it, is it? That’s your damn project? You came all the way to Russia to praise Skazanov? Are you fucking shitting me?”

Kylo was now staring determinedly at his laptop screen, pretending to read.

“Why in God’s name are you looking for anything positive in his life? You realize that he is on the list of the USSR’s top villains? Do you know how impressive that is? What are you trying to do, rehabilitate this asshole? If there is any justice in this universe then Anatolii Skazanov is currently burning in hell.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Kylo’s face had gone a deep shade of red, and Hux belatedly noticed that his fists were clenched tightly on either side of his laptop.

“Wait, are you serious?” Hux asked. He was genuinely taken aback. “Are you actually trying to—"

“He was my grandfather, alright?” Kylo spoke in a furious whisper, his fists were shaking now ever so slightly, like he was fighting to keep himself from moving. “He was my fucking grandfather, and no one ever—”

Kylo stood up so abruptly that he almost nailed Hux in the face. He began frantically grabbing his things and shoving them in his pockets, slamming his laptop shut and making for the exit. Hux just sat there and watched Kylo’s back retreat down the carpeted aisle. Hux heard the door to the reading room slam so hard that multiple heads popped up from their books. 

Kylo was the fucking grandchild of Anatolii Skazanov. Jesus fucking christ.

Hux had previously tried to stalk Kylo’s internet presence and found very little—now it made sense. If Hux was the descendant of one of Soviet history’s greatest murderers, he wouldn’t tell anyone his real name either.

Hux’s own grandfather had been a sour man that worked in a car factory his entire life. He had been clearly disappointed that Hux had not inherited his wide knuckles and left hook. After Hux’s grandmother had died, he had moved into their small apartment in Tolyatti, where he had shared a bedroom with Hux. He had slept with a small suitcase under the bed, which he would occasionally unpack and take inventory of. Inside was a change of clothing, all of his documentation, and a small stash of money that Hux was pretty sure no one else knew about. A hunk of dry bread would be wrapped in a napkin on top of the suitcase. Hux’s mother would grumble when she found it, inevitably mouldy and inedible, but no matter how many times she cursed him or threw it away, a new piece of bread would appear in the evening.

One night a car pulled into their courtyard, the headlamps shining in through the window and across the ceiling. Hux’s grandfather sat straight up in bed. Hux could barely see him in the dark, but he could smell his fear as the nervous sweat began pouring off him.

“Quick! Borya, get up! They’ve come for us!”

He pulled Hux out of bed, frantically pulling on his socks and telling Hux to do the same. Grabbing the suitcase and the bread, he had hustled Hux into the front hall, and was halfway through forcing Hux into his jacket when the lights came on. Hux’s mother stood before them in her nightgown, unimpressed.

“Senya, go back to bed. Now.”

Hux silently took off his jacket and boots, going back to his room and sliding under the covers. He listened to his mother’s firm voice telling his grandfather that none of it was real, that he was old, and crazy, and imagining things.

“It’s over,” she had said, “and you shouldn’t be scaring my son with your stories.”

In the reading room, a book lay before Hux describing how Kylo’s grandfather signed execution orders without reading them.

* * *

Kylo had forgotten his computer charger in the library. On his way to Kylo’s apartment, Hux half expected to see some sort of wake of destruction in Kylo’s path—a punched wall here, or a terrified passerby there, but everything looked as he had last left it. Kylo was a little red in the face when he answered the door, but otherwise unchanged.

Kylo said nothing, leaving Hux to let himself in. The apartment was significantly less tidy than when he had moved in. Sitting on Kylo’s couch, Hux saw that he had just finished a Skype call on his computer.

Kylo shoved a cup of tea into his hands before sitting on the other end of the couch with his own mug.

“Have you come here to  _ berate  _ me? To make me  _ apologize  _ for my interests?” The English word ‘sneer’ popped into Hux’s head.

“No, you idiot, you forgot your computer charger.”

Kylo was silent as Hux fished around in his backpack and tossed the charger towards Kylo’s end of the couch.

“You know, if you want me to keep helping you with your research you are going to have to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Kylo sulked, staring into the bottom of his mug of tea. Hux fiddled with the paper fob on his tea bag and waited for the silence to make Kylo uncomfortable enough to speak.

“He’s my fucking grandfather, and no one in my family would ever tell me anything. I got fed up with no one answering my questions, so I decided to come here. I sent emails to universities in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, and Snoke said he would be happy to have me.”

Kylo sounded petulant, like he was a child listing all of the horrible crimes committed against him in his perfect life. Hux had never met anyone so spoiled.

“I was always begging my family for information. Last year I wouldn’t shut up about him at Thanksgiving, and my uncle just snapped. He slapped me across the face, and everyone flipped out. It turns out my grandfather is the reason my uncle lost his arm. I still don’t know how. No one will tell me. What I don’t understand is…my grandmother was lovely. She was kind. Even though she barely spoke English, the two of us were very close. I loved her so much. How could—how could she have married him if he was—there has to be a reason she married him. Normal people don’t just marry sociopaths. She had kids with him. All the stories I have about my grandfather are from the people whose families he tortured and killed.”

They sat there in awkward silence, and Hux took a sip of his tea.

“I look just like him. I found a photo from when he was young, and we could be siblings. Do you understand what that feels like? Wanting to know your own history and not having anyone to ask?”

“My entire family were peasants and factory workers. No one wrote about them in history books.”

How fucking unfair, Hux thought bitterly. Kylo’s family fled to America. They seemed to be filthy rich, if Kylo’s lifestyle was any indicator. Hux’s grandfather had been disagreeable at times, but he had never killed anyone. On the table across from them, Kylo’s computer cost more than half of Hux’s annual salary.

Kylo appeared to be coming to some sort of similar conclusion. Hux figured it was hard to sulk when someone pointed out your entitlement. Kylo leaned toward Hux.

“Will you tell anyone?”

“Who would I tell? Your football team? No, Kylo, I’m not going to turn you into a leper. I also need you to edit my research proposal, so we can remain friends until Saturday at minimum.”

Kylo looked shocked, before letting out his bark of a laugh.

“Alright then. After Saturday I’ll have to find another way to keep you around.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kylo. You are not that interesting.” Hux felt his stomach swoop as Kylo grinned at him. The more Hux insulted Kylo the more delighted he seemed to become.

“Oh, I think I can figure something out,” Kylo said.

Hux felt himself blush.

Was he…really going to pretend to forget Kylo’s horrific family history because of a crush? God help him, he might. If other people found out about Kylo’s lineage, Hux would be judged harshly by association, and he wasn’t about to cut ties. Spending time with Kylo had become the most exciting part of his week, even on the days when all they did was read in the library. It had gotten to the point where nothing else Hux did interested him. A misspelled text from Kylo would become the highlight of his day.

He’d fallen in love with Skazanov’s grandson. Jesus Christ. No one could find out. If the church was to be believed, Hux was already damned to hell for sodomy, envy, and pride—ignoring history for a chance to suck the cock of a mass murderer’s progeny was just the icing on the cake.

* * *

“You changed my research proposal.” Hux shot up from his chair, pointing accusingly at the screen of Kylo’s laptop.

“Hm?”

“I gave this to you to proofread, and you changed my proposal.”

“I fixed up the grammar too.”

“Yes, and then you changed it.”

“It’s within the word count.”

“Kylo, I don’t give a fuck about the word count! I asked you to check my English and you  _ reversed _ my hypothesis!”

“Your hypothesis was wrong.”

Hux felt his jaw drop.

“Excuse me?”

“Look, did you want my help or not? Your idea wasn’t working, so I changed it.” The tone of Kylo’s voice indicated that he was enjoying himself, getting psyched up for some kind of intellectual sparring match.

Hux felt fury rise in him. The stress of the last two weeks crashed over him in waves. The idea that Kylo might agree with Snoke, might not think that Hux’s research was good enough—he opened his mouth to yell and was shocked when a sob came out. Out of nowhere, he felt himself blinking away tears. Judging by the look on Kylo’s face, he was as startled as Hux was.

Hux sank down into his chair at Kylo’s dining table and buried his head in his hands. He clamped his mouth shut, but his shoulders still shook as he sobbed silently. Tears were running down his cheeks in the warm darkness behind his palms. His nose began to run, but he couldn’t pull his hands away—he didn’t want Kylo to see his face.

He felt a gentle touch to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Kylo’s voice was soft and hesitant. “I shouldn’t have done that…I didn’t know…I didn’t.”

Hux sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“This application…Kylo. I can’t work for Snoke another year, I just can’t.” Hux lifted his face out of his hands to wipe his upper lip with his sleeve. “I hate my job, and I hate my apartment, and I’m  _ scared _ all the time.” Hux bit back the overwhelming urge to tell Kylo exactly why he was so afraid: that he was terrified of being outed, that he modulated his body language, his clothing choices, even his voice in an attempt to hide himself. 

He just wanted to slip out from under the weight that was crushing him.

“I’m  _ tired _ , Kylo.”

Kylo’s touch lifted from his shoulder, and the next thing he knew a box of tissues was placed in front of him. Hux gathered up a few and blew his nose, which must have looked and sounded disgusting. Kylo pulled over a chair and sat next to him.

“This application is due at midnight and—” Hux hiccupped, “I don’t have time to rewrite it or fix everything you changed, and even if you edited it again, we wouldn’t have time to—”

Kylo reached out and wrapped Hux in a hug, and even though Hux was furious, he curled himself into Kylo’s massive shoulders and let himself be comforted. Absurdly, between sobs, he found himself wishing that his nose wasn’t stuffed, so that he would know what Kylo smelled like.

“We’ll do it together, okay? Right now. We’ll put everything back, and I’ll edit the English, and we’ll submit it before the deadline. Yeah?” Kylo handed him another tissue, and Hux took it and nodded. “You go make us some tea, and I’ll find the original document you sent me.”

Hux gave him a watery smile, and moved to put the kettle on, grateful for the moment to collect himself. By the time Hux sat back down, Kylo had a determined expression on his face.

“Look, I’m not a social scientist, but I know what LSE is looking for. Your hypothesis is wrong. If you want, I’ll do exactly what you asked, and just edit your work for grammar and spelling, but if you trust me, let me try and convince you why you should change it.”

Hux exhaled shakily and took a sip of tea. He gave Kylo a short nod.

“And…” Kylo’s brow furrowed, “My mother is friends with the rector at the university. If I call her, she can put in a good word for you. If you’d like.”

Hux stared at him, dumbfounded. Was this what it meant to be rich? To just  _ know someone  _ at such a high level when you needed something?

“That would be…greatly appreciated.”

Kylo nodded.

“I’ll wait another hour or so, to make sure it isn’t too early in Washington, and then I’ll call her.” Kylo pulled the laptop towards him and opened the edited application. “In the meantime, let’s get started on this.”

* * *

Hux spent the next day distracted and tired. It was as if his body had been running on adrenaline, caffeine, and nicotine until he submitted his application—now that he had a moment to react, he was almost giddy with exhaustion and relief. 

Hux knew he shouldn’t check Grindr during business hours, but he wanted to celebrate. Between his mountain of work and most of his free time spent with Kylo, it had been a long time since he had gotten laid. His profile was set as undiscoverable while at work—he wasn’t an idiot—but he wanted to see if there was anyone interesting.

And there was. The main profile picture was of a torso and a wide set of shoulders. The only way to describe this guy was  _ solid.  _ He looked like he could pick Hux up and toss him across the room. Hux felt his cheeks heat. He glanced up, paranoid, to double check that his office door was closed. The picture looked hot, but not hot enough to look like it had been lifted from somewhere else. He swiped to the next photo and bit his lip. It was a hand over an erection in briefs. Fuck, it looked good. The third photo was a selfie taken in a bathroom mirror, again shirtless and faceless, with only—wait. The bathroom looked familiar.

Shit.

He navigated over to the profile bio and groaned when he saw that it was in English. Apparently not satisfied to leave it at that, Kylo had included a little American flag in his description of himself. Hux’s heart was racing.

Not thinking about what he was doing, Hux exited the app and dialed Kylo’s number. It rang twice before he picked up.

“Oh hey, Hux. What’s up?” Kylo sounded upbeat, which made one of them.

“Take it down. Your Grindr profile. Take it down right now.”

“What? Oh, I forgot about that.”

“You forgot? You fucking—Kylo, you have to—I’m not hanging up the phone until you delete it.”

“Wait, why? You have one, otherwise you wouldn’t have found mine.”

Hux had not entirely thought this through.

“You idiot, you’re one of the only Americans at this university—I know because I signed them up for classes myself. One of them is an old hag who is taking a sabbatical, and the other is five feet tall and blonde.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Kylo—”

“I’m deleting it now.”

“Good. You can’t just—”

“You don’t have to yell. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not a big—” Hux swore in Russian, and then lowered his voice. “Are you shitting me? Did you do _no_ research before you came here? There are people who would _love_ nothing more than to lure a foreign faggot into a back alley and beat the shit out of him. Not to mention the danger you’ve put _me_ in. We spend one day a week together, and you requested my assistance personally! Use your fucking head!”

There was a huff on the other end of the phone, followed by more silence.

“I just…wanted to find, you know,  _ friends _ .” Hux could hear Kylo trying to speak carefully in public on the other end of the line, and felt his anger abate.

“Well, you found one. I’ll take you out sometime if you’d like.”

“Yeah…that would be good. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. This is safer for us both than whatever shit you would get into by yourself.”

“Okay. And Hux, I’m sorry.”

Hux sighed heavily. “It’s alright. Let’s pray no one noticed it and move on.”

He hung up and took a deep breath, willing his pulse under control. He took a moment to process what had just happened. So, Hux had been wrong then: Kylo was gay. And fucking hung. And Hux had just offered to take him to a gay club. Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Anatolii Skazanov — Anakin Skywalker’s Russian pseudonym. “Skazanov” isn’t based on anyone in particular in Soviet history. It felt very inappropriate to equate any actual mass murderers to a fictional character like Darth Vader, so I kept my references to his crimes as vague as possible. 
>   2. “moved into their small apartment in Tolyatti” — The fact that Hux is from Tolyatti is a throwback to _To the Moon and Back,_ which takes place in Tolyatti (and which everyone should read, it is excellent)
>   3. Hux’s grandfather — Hux’s grandfather is a composite character based on _The Whisperers_ by Orlando Figes. The book is a collection of stories and experiences of life under Stalin. It is a compelling read, and I would highly recommend it for anyone interested in learning more about the repressions.  
>  I’ve also played with time a bit. For Hux and Kylo’s grandparents to have lived when they did, this story would be taking place maybe a decade or two earlier. Let’s all just pretend not to notice. 
>   4. “Quick! Borya, get up!” — Hux’s grandfather is calling Hux by his father’s name.
>   5. “Senya, go back to bed.” — Hux’s mother is calling Hux by the diminutive of his first name, Arsenii.
>   6. “There are people who would _love_ nothing more than to lure a foreign faggot into a back alley and beat the shit out of him.” — Hux is being pretty dramatic here, but not entirely unreasonable. The hookup scene in Russia is arguably safer now than it was half a decade ago, but there are still really horrific cases of gay men being lured into traps via dating app. On the other hand, I know gay couples that met via app, and a bunch of people who use them regularly, so Hux is not an entirely reliable source of information here. For more on Russian LGBT modern history, I’d _super_ recommend two books:
> 
> Dan Healey’s _Russian Homophobia from Stalin to Sochi_ — Quite academic, but you can’t have a discussion about queer Russia without it.
> 
> Masha Gessen’s _The Future Is History: How Totalitarianism Reclaimed Russia_ — This book is a masterpiece. It is my favorite thing that I read in 2020. It is quite dense, but I promise, you will not regret reading it.
> 
> 



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter count has gone up! Might be a while until the next update, as chapter 5 is giving me hell, but 6 and 7 are pretty much done, so things will progress quickly after that.

Hux smoked a cigarette as he waited outside the Moskovskii Prospekt metro station. He hoped Kylo wasn’t wearing anything stupid. Judging by his tact on Grindr, Hux wouldn’t have been surprised if he showed up in goddamn fishnets. He finished his first cigarette and lit a second one, before seeing Kylo wave and walk toward him.

Kylo was wearing a ridiculously expensive-looking parka, one which was obviously meant for the arctic winter. It made him stick out like a sore thumb. Hux walked quickly, wanting to minimize their time spent on the street looking like prime targets for a mugging. Kylo seemed to be burning with excitable energy, and his enthusiasm was pissing Hux off.

“There are some things you need to know before we arrive.” Hux took a drag from his cigarette. “Don’t go outside without me. If someone walks up to us or tries to talk to us near the club, do  _ not  _ engage with them. Do  _ not  _ speak English outdoors. If something…develops, run. Got it?”

“What—I’m not just going to leave you to get your ass beat.”

“Listen to me: you can’t even beg for your life in Russian. For them, it would be like beating a dog.” Seeing the expression on Kylo’s face, Hux softened his tone. “It's not like this stuff happens all the time, it is much rarer now than it used to be. But you have to be very careful, and a little paranoid.”

Hux stopped and stamped out his cigarette, glancing back down the street behind him before opening the gate to a courtyard and gesturing Kylo inside. They walked in the darkness, a few feet apart, stepping over puddles in the direction of the club. The outside didn’t look like much, just a nondescript door and few guys hanging around smoking. Hux greeted them with a nod as he approached, pressing the doorbell. Katya opened it.

“Katyukha, hey. I brought along a guest.” Hux gestured at Kylo. “How’ve you been?” Katya was as tall as Kylo, and nearly as built. Her short blonde hair was slicked back tonight, and her black bouncer’s T-shirt was tight enough to show off her massive arms and flat chest.

“Fine. And you?” Out of the corner of his eye, Hux saw Kylo do a double take.

“I’ve had my hands full with this clueless American, but other than that, fine.”

Katya became visibly interested.

“An American? What the fuck is he doing here?”

“Who knows. Let us in and shut the door, will you? Its fucking freezing out.”

They both stepped inside to the staircase that led to the club. The smoke in the air got thicker as they climbed the stairs.

“You can smoke inside here?” Kylo asked.

“Officially, no.”

They dropped their coats off at the tiny closet of a coat check, and Hux felt a prickle of annoyance at how blatantly the young twink of an attendant checked Kylo out. Kylo didn’t seem to notice, making sure all of his valuables were in his jean pockets.

The club was narrow, windowless, and loud. At the far end was a small stage with mirrors on the wall behind it. There were benches and tables along the sides of the dance floor, and colored lights flashed in time with the music. The club was small—Hux was sure it was pathetic in comparison to most American gay bars—but that meant it always felt packed. He immediately spotted a few familiar faces that were taking an interest in Kylo and decided that he needed a drink.

“What do you want?” He asked Kylo, speaking loudly to be heard over the music.

“I dunno, a beer?”

Hux managed to get the attention of the bartender and ordered two beers.

“It’ll be three hundred rubles.” Hux leaned in towards Kylo to make himself heard.

Kylo pulled out his wallet and counted out the cash, giving it to the bartender when he returned. Hux was pleased to have scored a free drink, but also to have made it clear to any close observers that they had arrived together.

Someone came up behind him and grabbed his ass. Hux turned to see Pasha’s catlike grin, very close to his face.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Hux rolled his eyes.

“Kylo, meet Pasha and Finn,” he said in English.

Pasha’s eyes widened, and he turned to Hux.

“A foreigner?” he asked in Russian. “Where did you find yourself a foreigner?”

Finn, with significantly better manners, was reaching across to shake Kylo’s hand.

“Hey there, I’m Finn. Welcome to Russia.” Kylo’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You speak English! Thank fuck!”

After Finn and Pasha got themselves drinks, the four of them moved to find a table somewhere slightly quieter.

“So, has Hux scared the shit out of you yet? Did he tell you that you’d have to fight for your life on the way out of the club?”

“More like I’d have to make a run for it,” Kylo said. Finn let out a laugh.

“Don’t let him rile you up too much. Our Hux can be a bit of a drama queen.” Finn tried to reach over to muss Hux’s hair, but Hux jerked out of his reach.

“For sure a queen,” Pasha chimed in, with his heavy accent. Kylo was laughing, seemingly overjoyed to have found people to tease Hux with.

“It’s not as bad here as they make it seem on Western TV. As long as you are quiet, you can just live your life,” Finn said.

“Is that so?” Kylo raised an eyebrow at Hux, who could feel his mood souring. Hux finished his beer and was surprised when Kylo automatically went to the bar to get him a second round.

“So, uh, Finn, if you don’t mind me asking—” Kylo placed a new beer in front of Hux as he sat back down.

“How the hell am I black and Russian?” Finn asked. Kylo laughed awkwardly. “My grandfather moved here from America. He thought things would be better under communism than under Jim Crow—and it was at first. The whole family was treated like royalty, until they got Soviet citizenship and gave up their American passports, at which point they were treated like everyone else. We always spoke English at home though, and Grandpa insisted I learn to read and write too.”

“He is very smart, and good teacher too,” Pasha was grinning adoringly at him, slinging an arm around his Finn’s shoulders and kissing him wetly on the cheek.

“I teach English at a private school and they have me pretend to be an American.” Finn rolled his eyes. “Honestly though, it is easier than having Russians constantly asking me where I’m from.”

Kylo grinned at Finn, and Hux hoped he was imagining their sustained eye contact.

“I’m going to go get us a round of shots,” said Finn, “and then, we are going to dance!”

“No,” Hux said, “Absolutely not.”

“That is what the shots are for Senya, sit here and wait.”

Finn wandered off to the bar, and Hux turned to see Pasha leaning into Kylo’s space, his hand making its way up Kylo’s thigh. Hux felt his mood drop through the floor.

Bringing Kylo here had been a mistake.

He hadn’t expected Kylo to jump directly into his bed with the revelation that they were both gay, but he was now realizing that he had been hoping for it. He looked around the club with the fresh desperation of someone who urgently needed their own hookup. Finn returned with the shots.

“Bottoms up, Hux.” He winked.

“Fuck you,” Hux said in Russian, not waiting before downing the shot. Hux relished the pained look on Kylo’s face as the other three did their shots together.

“Alright!” Finn slapped his thighs, “Now we dance!”

“I’m not leaving the table. You go, have fun.” Hux didn’t even bother to mask the bitterness in his voice.

He tried to avert his eyes, but it was like watching a train wreck. Kylo was clearly a little drunk and seemed very happy to find himself in between Finn and Pasha. At first, they were laughing and occasionally exchanging words, but soon things clearly became hot and heavy. Hux brooded and silently cursed Kylo for not coming to check on him.

“What, you lost your American already?” Katya sat down, beer in hand.

“What, you lost your job already?” Hux shot back. Katya’s eyebrows went up.

“Petya has taken over for a few minutes, but I can go spend my break elsewhere if you’d like.”

“No, sorry, just—” Hux sighed. “Pasha is such a slut. He already has a boyfriend, why can’t he be satisfied?”

“What, you want a boyfriend now?”

“No! You know what I mean! It’s just that I found him, I should have first dibs.”

Katya snorted.

“Good luck with that. I have never wanted to fuck a man in my life, but if Pasha smiled at me the right way?” She shrugged. “You didn’t stand a chance.”

“Ugh, and then there is Finn with his perfect English. You know what? I don’t even think he sounds that American.”

“Hux, do you just want to complain? Or do you want my advice? No one likes a sore loser. You want to sleep with this guy? Relax. It’s a small city—you’ll get your chance.”

It appeared that chance might come sooner that expected, as Kylo loped over to their table.

“C’mon Hux, more shots!”

Hux looked to Katya, who shrugged.

“Relax,” she told him, before standing and returning to her post.

Hux’s spirits lifted when Kylo took him by the hand and led him to the bar. Finn and Pasha were waiting with eight shots lined up on a tray. After they knocked them back, Pasha turned to Hux and Kylo.

“We decided! You will come to our place. We have a party. Our apartment has two beds, you can sleep with us after.”

“You hear that?” Kylo grinned, putting his arm around Hux’s shoulders and leaning down to speak into his ear. “We can sleep with them.”

Hux rolled his eyes.

“Your English is atrocious,” he told Pasha in Russian.

“It gets the job done,” Pasha replied with a grin.

They all clambered into a taxi near the metro station. Hux took the front seat, which was a mistake. Almost immediately he heard the breathy, wet sounds of drunk people making out in the back. He kept his eyes fixed forward, eyeing taxi driver for any signs of hostility. Hux was fuming, but he couldn’t tell if he was angrier about the public displays of affection, or the thought that Kylo might be taking part in whatever was happening back there. He had a sudden vision of himself lying awake on Finn and Pasha’s pullout couch, hearing the sounds of the three of them fucking through the thin walls.

The ride up in the tiny elevator was excruciating. He was crammed into Kylo’s chest in the small space and wished he didn’t know good Kylo’s deodorant smelled. Hux’s own hair smelled like cigarettes.

“Welcome!” Pasha said loudly in English, as he pushed open the door to their apartment. The entry way was narrow, with the bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom doors lined up along one side of the hallway. The end of the hall opened to a larger room that functioned as living room or a second bedroom for Finn, depending on who was asking. Pasha handed Kylo a pair of slippers, as Finn went into the kitchen to fix them drinks.

“Please, please, here,” Pasha was shepherding Kylo toward the living space.

“What, I don’t get slippers?” Hux yelled after him in Russian.

“You are here too often to be a guest!” Pasha yelled back.

They sat around the coffee table in the living room, Pasha and Kylo on the couch, Finn and Hux on the floor. Finn had made them rum and cokes. He had mixed them far too strong, but no one else seemed to notice. Kylo and Pasha drifted closer together. Kylo’s arm was across the back of the couch, and Pasha’s hand had found its way back to Kylo’s thigh. To Hux’s dismay, Finn seemed to have no problem with it. He just smiled and laughed at Pasha’s abysmal English while sipping his drink.

“You know, Hux and me…we ah…” Pasha waved back and forth between himself and Hux, before making a rude gesture that indicated exactly what he and Hux had been up to.

“Christ,” Hux scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Oh really?” Kylo sounded genuinely interested. He was leaning forward, his body angled toward Pasha. “Hux, he any good?”

Hux’s jaw dropped as Pasha leaned forward and kissed Kylo. Finn downed his drink, his face serious and attentive as he watched. Hux felt frozen in place, that same feeling from before washed over him, of his heart sinking as he watched a train wreck. Pasha finally broke apart from the kiss, his hands on either side of Kylo’s face.

“Fuck, he is such a good kisser.” He said in Russian, turning to look at Hux. “You want to try him out?”

Hux felt Kylo’s gaze on him from between Pasha’s palms. He felt blood rush to his face, but he didn’t know if it was because he was angry, horny, or drunk. He stood up and stormed to the front door, slamming his feet into his shoes. His long coat swished around him as he pounded down the stairs. He was drunk enough that his surroundings were blurred slightly, and he could feel how uneven his own steps were. He was vaguely aware that he could trip and break his neck, but at that moment he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was halfway across the courtyard before he heard Kylo’s steps ring out behind him.

“Hux! Hey! Wait!” Against his better judgement, Hux stopped and whirled around to face Kylo.

“What was this? Your plan, hm? Lure me to come back with you so that I could watch? Or were you hoping you could convince me to join you?”

Kylo’s arms were up in surrender.

“I just wanted to kiss you, that’s all. I told Pasha, and next thing I know, we’re here.”

Fucking Dameron. Hux ran his hands through his hair and groaned.

“I’m not like that—Pasha knows, I don’t  _ do  _ things like that in front of other people. And I don’t share.”

Kylo paused, as if Hux had said something that disturbed him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Now I know.”

Hux now noticed that Kylo wasn’t wearing a coat and was still wearing those damn slippers.

“You should go inside, it’s cold.”

“Will you come back? I promise I’ll only kiss you.” Kylo’s voice was earnest, as he reached for Hux’s fingers. Hux’s heart soared.

“Fine,” Hux said, squeezing once before letting go. “But Pasha and Finn have to sleep in their own bedroom, and if I get so much as a hint of a foursome, I will leave.”

* * *

Hux woke, and it was one of the few mornings in his life where nothing he had been dreaming could be better than his real life. They were both shirtless on the pull-out couch under one of Pasha and Finn’s ratty blankets. Hux lay on his back, and Kylo had thrown an arm and a leg across him as they slept.

Hux had flashes of memory of what they had done last night. Finn and Pasha had retreated to their bedroom by the time Hux and Kylo had returned, and the two of them had sloppily kissed their way down the hall to fall onto the pull-out together. They lay side by side as they kissed, with Kylo groping him greedily. Hux had dragged his nails down Kylo’s back, scratching with increasing intensity. It evoked a hitch of breath and a moan from Kylo, louder each time.

Drunk and sleepy, they’d eventually drifted off. Hux watched the gradual rise and fall of Kylo’s chest, before reaching over and running his fingertips softly along Kylo’s back, feeling for any scratches he might have left behind.

“You didn’t get enough of that last night?” Kylo asked, his voice gravelly and muffled from where his face was smushed into the pillow. Hux dug his nails in in response, and Kylo moaned. Kylo pulled at Hux, trying to get him to face towards him. Hux shook his head.

“Get on top,” he said in a low voice.

Up close, Kylo’s body seemed even larger as he moved himself over Hux. As Kylo lowered his weight down, Hux felt his pulse take off. He threaded his fingers into Kylo’s ridiculous hair, staring intensely up into his face. Kylo pressed their hips together as Hux’s hand tightened, and Kylo’s eyes rolled back in his head. Fuck, he loved this. Knowing someone closely, and then learning them all over again, intimately. A whole new set of sounds and expressions and tastes.

Hux dragged Kylo down by the hair, more biting than kissing, breaking apart to breathe into each other’s mouths as Kylo rutted up against him.

“Fuck,” Kylo said, and Hux revelled in the novelty of hearing English obscenities during sex.

Without warning, Kylo quickly reached down between them and unfastened his pants, frantically stroking his cock until he groaned, and Hux felt the delicate sensation of cum landing along his stomach and chest. Kylo let out a breath and collapsed next to Hux.

“Gimmie a minute,” he said, face smushed back into the pillow.

Hux trailed a hand down and teased himself through his pants. He looked down at Kylo’s muscular shoulders and saw the faint red marks left from last night. He rubbed himself more firmly, before opening his fly and reaching in to wrap his fingers around his dick. Before he’d managed two strokes, he felt Kylo’s hand snake across his abdomen to replace his own.

“What do you like?” Kylo asked, his voice gravelly and his breath in Hux’s ear.

“Can you get back on top?” Hux was too horny to hide his moderately weird request.

“Mmm,” Kylo said, propping himself up on one arm and looming over Hux. “You like that, don’t you? What do you like about it?”

Kylo’s grip was dry, and Hux was about to suggest he use spit when Kylo scooped up his own cum with his fingers and went back to stroking Hux’s dick. Under normal circumstances Hux would have considered it gross. Right now, he was too close to care.

“I, ah, I like that you are big. Bigger than me.”

“Yeah?” Kylo stopped and sat back on his knees, using his clean hand to grab Hux’s wrists and pin them together over his head. “Maybe you’ll like that then, huh?”

Hux arched his back. He pushed back against Kylo’s grip, and just as he had hoped, Kylo slammed his wrists back into the mattress, tightening his hold. Kylo leaned down again, kissing his way up Hux’s neck.

“You like how much stronger I am than you? I’ve got you pinned. You couldn’t get out even if you wanted to.” Kylo’s voice had gone hard, more aggressive than sexual. “I could  _ crush _ you.”

And with that, Hux came all over himself, swearing and gasping, as Kylo held his wrists tight and raptly watched Hux’s face.

From the other room, they heard a sneeze, much louder and more clearly audible than was comfortable.

Kylo broke into giggles, and Hux grinned despite himself. Kylo wiped his hand off on the blanket, which was a lot less charming now that Hux was in his right mind.

They sat and ate breakfast at the tiny kitchen table. Hux made sure there was coffee waiting for Finn and Pasha as a silent apology. Kylo was so pleased with himself that he was intolerable. He kept looming over Hux, as if under the impression that his height was God’s gift to Hux personally. Hux couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed.

Pasha gave Hux a wink when he emerged from the bedroom, and Hux cursed him out as a sly bastard.

“A sly bastard that got you laid. You are welcome.” Hux sputtered as Pasha kissed him wetly on the cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. “You can’t even beg for your life in Russian. For them, it would be like beating a dog.” — This rather grim picture that Hux paints is based on the experiences of my supervisor. She was living in Saint Petersburg in the 90s, and watched a man get his face beaten in on the metro. This was the phrase she used to describe why she didn’t intervene. 
>   2. Katyukha - An affectionate form of the name Katya, which is Phasma’s first name in this AU.
>   3. “You can smoke inside here?” — I generally found that the more underground a club was, the more likely you were to have people smoke inside. I knew I had spent a night somewhere very cool when I came home and my clothes smelled like cigarettes.
>   4. “Hux was sure it was pathetic in comparison to most American gay bars” — Hux is incorrect here; the gay scene in Saint Petersburg was _significantly_ better than the one in my hometown. I’m sure it pales in comparison to Berlin or London, but almost everywhere does. [This ](https://avatars.mds.yandex.net/get-altay/492546/2a0000015e532dbd8e82dca71cd718c5ed65/XXL)is a picture of the club I had in mind, by the way.
>   5. Pasha is Poe’s name in this series.
>   6. “My grandfather moved here from America” — Finn’s family history is based on a true story! There is a [This American Life episode](https://www.thisamericanlife.org/694/get-back-to-where-you-once-belonged/act-one-15) about it, and it is just incredible. Absolutely worth a listen. 
> 



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a dub-con warning, y’all. Not because anyone is at all unwilling (hell, Hux is more than) but because our boys do not have Good and Responsible™ conversations before engaging in certain types of activities.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” Hux asked. Kylo was sprawled on the couch, eating toast. He was getting crumbs everywhere.

“I don’t know. Are you planning on taking me to any museums?”

“No.”

“Then no plans.”

Hux rolled his eyes. If Kylo had been making half-hearted attempts to make friends before they had started dating, he had now given up entirely. Kylo hardly did anything without Hux, other than football a few nights a week, and even then, he skipped it sometimes for the chance to get laid. Hux was thrilled.

“It’s a long weekend and Katya has invited us to her dacha.”

“It’s a long weekend? Wasn’t it just a holiday last week?”

“That was Labor Day, this is Victory Day—it’s much worse.”

“It doesn’t sound worse.”

“Trust me, we’re leaving the city.”

Katya picked them up in her SUV on Thursday afternoon, and they drove to a big box store on the outskirts of the suburbs.

Kylo came in to get the groceries with them. He was wearing his infinitely muggable coat and had all of the enthusiasm of a caffeinated toddler. He got excited about jars of juice, pickles, even the fucking bag of coal. Katya, who had only begrudgingly consented to Kylo coming to the dacha in the first place, took half the shopping list and disappeared.

“Would you calm down?” Hux gritted out through his teeth, as Kylo lobbed a packet of toilet paper into their cart.

“What?” Kylo’s face fell, as if he hadn’t even noticed Hux’s mounting frustration.

“You’re bouncing off the fucking walls—and ask me before you pick things! This stuff is three times more expensive than what we need.” Hux hauled the toilet paper out of the cart and replaced it with a more reasonable alternative.

Kylo looked like a kicked puppy. He put his hands in his coat pockets and followed Hux up and down the aisles without a word. Hux felt guilty for snapping, but he refused to apologize. Kylo needed to learn how to act like a fucking adult.

“I was just excited to go on a trip with you.” Kylo said, sulky and quiet. “You didn’t have to yell.”

Hux glanced down the aisle. He slipped one of his hands into Kylo’s coat pocket and interlaced their fingers, squeezing briefly.

“I’m excited too. I think we’re going to have a good time.”

“Oh yeah?” Kylo’s voice had gone low, and he loomed slightly over Hux as he drew himself up to his full height.

Any tension between them ended in sex. Kylo seemed capable of forgetting his grievances the moment Hux touched him, sexually or otherwise. Hux found himself testing the limits of Kylo’s forgiveness. ‘Normal people don’t just marry sociopaths,’ Kylo had said—maybe they just didn’t realize until it was too late.

Kylo made himself invaluable when they carried the groceries to the car. Between Katya and Kylo, Hux was pleased to realize that no one would ask him to do anything strenuous all weekend.

“We’re taking the loft,” Hux told Katya, when they got back in the car.

“Suit yourself,” replied Katya, “but if I overhear you two fucking, I’m burning the place down.”

“Very funny.”

Katya’s dacha was cozy. It was old fashioned, with herringbone wooden siding and no running water. She had inherited it from her great uncle, who had built it decades ago. Handy family members had added their own touches over the years, making everything seem slightly mismatched. It was winterproofed, with a wood stove and ancient double paned windows. Katya had mostly let the garden go to seed, but there were still blackcurrant bushes flourishing out back. Inside, the dacha was divided up into smaller rooms, each stuffed with old furniture and books that had been abandoned vacation reads.

When they arrived, Katya got a fire started in the cast iron stove and made herself a cup of tea. Kylo was only interested in the bedroom. Katya leered at Hux as Kylo carried his bag up to the loft for him.

“What?” Hux flushed.

“Nothing, just nice to see a man treat his girl right.”

“Fuck off.”

“I think Kylo is planning on taking care of that too.” Katya smirked, and Hux flashed her the finger before climbing up to the loft.

The minute Hux stepped off the ladder, Kylo’s hands were on him, pulling at his sweater and the waistband of his pants.

“Take your shoes off,” he said under his breath.

The minute Hux toed off his boots, Kylo all but flung him toward the bed. Hux found himself on his back, while Kylo knelt on the floor between his knees and started pulling at Hux’s jeans.

“Fuck,” Hux said under his breath, as Kylo peeled his pants down and threw them aside. “Kylo, we’ve got to be quiet.”

“Then keep quiet,” Kylo said, before divesting Hux of his underwear.

Kylo slowed his pace, kissing his way down Hux’s thighs and calves before removing one sock at a time. Once Hux was naked from the waist down, Kylo pressed his nose into the pubic hair at the base of Hux’s cock and inhaled.

Kylo was entirely unselfconscious about sex. He didn’t give a shit about any of the things that “should” be done, like foreplay, or shaving, or concealing bodily functions. Kylo would regularly come within minutes—or seconds—of his dick being touched and showed no sign of embarrassment about it whatsoever. His complete lack of shame was infuriating outside of the bedroom, but Hux found that it resulted in the most blissfully straightforward sex of his life.

Hux drew himself up onto his elbows, looking down at Kylo as he continued to _sniff_ Hux’s groin.

“You’re fucking weird, you know that?” he whispered. He bit back a groan as Kylo wrapped his hand around Hux’s dick and started mouthing at his balls.

Kylo pulled his mouth away with a wet sound.

“I don’t know,” Kylo’s voice felt loud in the quiet of the loft, “you seem into it.”

“Fuck, don’t stop.”

Kylo spat on Hux’s dick, before going back to sucking on his balls. His hand tightened as he slowly increased his pace. Hux grabbed wildly for a pillow to muffle the sounds he was making.

“I’m going to come,” he lifted the pillow off his face slightly to warn Kylo. Kylo’s mouth immediately swallowed the head of his dick, and Hux practically smothered himself to keep quiet.

By the time he gathered the strength to sit up, Kylo already had a hand down his pants and was quickly jerking himself off.

“Can I come on your feet?” he panted.

“Fucking what?” Hux was so taken aback that he didn’t bother to whisper.

“Can I—” Kylo groaned and came on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Hold on—excuse me?” Hux didn’t wait until Kylo had completely finished. “What exactly did you want to do to my _feet_?”

Undisturbed, Kylo pressed gentle kisses up the inside of Hux’s thigh.

“Cum on them, suck them, rub my dick on them, anything really.”

“Kylo, are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Kylo looked up at him.

Hux had never been more grateful in his life that Katya didn’t speak a word of English.

“They’re _feet,_ they’re gross, and smelly!”

Kylo shrugged.

“I like ‘em.” He got up off his knees and gathered Hux up in the center of the bed, snuggling like he hadn’t just confessed to being a pervert. After a few minutes of cuddling, Kylo’s breathing evened out, because apparently nothing could hinder his post-coital nap. Hux lay there in shock before slipping out of Kylo’s embrace, redressing, and joining Katya downstairs.

She was sitting with her cup of tea reading a beaten-up volume of Mayakovsky poetry.

“If you’d like some tea, the kettle is still hot.”

“Thank you,” said Hux, and then after a pause, “wait—hold on, what are you implying?”

“Nothing,” she grinned and went back to her book. The kitchen table was crammed into the space under the kitchen window, surrounded by low stools hidden under the checkered tablecloth. Hux fixed himself some bread with salami and tried very hard not to think about feet as he ate.

“Hux, your boyfriend is an idiot—don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean—but I don’t think I’ve seen you this relaxed before. Ever.”

Hux put down his snack and stared at her.

“So, are you happy with him?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because even if you weren’t, I was going to tell you to marry him for the green card.”

“Christ, I am so lucky that you two can’t communicate with each other.”

“How is his Russian still this bad? He’s been here since September, no?”

“Don’t encourage him, honestly, his accent is bloody murder.”

She shrugged.

“He can propose to you in whatever language he wants, I don’t mind.”

“My God, Katya, we’re not—”

“Hux, in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never been happy. Not once. Get the damn green card.”

She went back to her book. Hux finished his snack and went back up to the loft to crawl back into Kylo’s arms. He couldn’t say that he was wild about Kylo’s sexual inclinations, but he supposed it could be worse. If Kylo asked to piss on him, Hux was leaving. Green card be damned.

Kylo was fast asleep, his mouth relaxed and slightly open. Hux tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, admiring how the rest of it fanned across the pillow. Hux kissed the tip of his nose in an attempt to get a reaction, but Kylo was out cold.

He pulled out his phone and searched ‘foot porn,’ frowning as all of the results that came up were of teenage girls in stockings. He changed his search to ‘gay foot porn,’ which was only slightly more tolerable. 

Honestly, none of it did anything for Hux. He clicked on one and felt fleeting interest watching the two men make out, until the one tried to put _a whole foot_ in his mouth. The thought of toenails hitting the back of his throat made Hux gag. A lot of the videos seemed to include tickling, and Hux would walk straight into his own grave before he let Kylo try any of that. The only good news was that Kylo wanting to jizz on his feet suddenly felt a lot tamer in comparison.

* * *

The surprise of the weekend was that Kylo turned out to be quite the outdoorsman. In the city he practically walked into walls, his large body seeming at odds with his surroundings. In the woods he looked right at home.

Katya raised her eyebrows at Hux, clearly impressed when Kylo built them an excellent bonfire on the beach. He had grabbed the small hatchet from their pack and disappeared, returning with an armful of kindling and an honest-to-god tree trunk.

Katya sat back and opened a beer, handing one to Kylo.

“You did a good job,” she said in Russian, gesturing to the fire and giving him a thumbs up. Kylo beamed.

They roasted beef sausages for lunch, and Kylo hollered happily when he found the package of marshmallows. Hux sat between Kylo’s spread legs, leaning back against his chest. In between roasting marshmallows, Kylo would absently stroke his hand up and down Hux’s chest over his sweater. Hux closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun shining through his eyelids and the heat from the fire against his face.

He smiled, listening to Katya and Kylo’s attempts at conversation, which was mostly laughing when the marshmallows caught on fire. Occasionally, Kylo would feed him a piece, all warm and charred. The third time it happened, Hux fellated Kylo’s fingers as thanks. He’d thought he had been subtle, but Katya stood up and announced she was going for a swim.

“I’m going out to the other end of the bay,” she told Hux, stripping off her shirt and jeans, “so I’ll be gone thirty minutes or so.”

“Alright.”

Kylo looked slightly alarmed when Katya pulled off her underwear and made a very deliberate effort not to stare at her ass as she walked into the sea.

If anyone needed proof that Katya was made of steel, it was that she didn’t even flinch as she strode into the frigid water. After it reached her waist, she dove in, fearless.

Kylo began kissing his way up Hux’s neck, and Hux pretended to play dumb.

“Can I have another marshmallow?” Hux asked. Kylo’s hands tightened on his waist and he caught the thin skin of Hux’s neck between his teeth.

“You really want a marshmallow right now?” Kylo asked, his voice low. He ran his hand up Hux’s front and pulled him more tightly toward his chest.

“Yes,” Hux didn’t even sound convincing to himself.

“I don’t think you do,” said Kylo, “I think you want me to tell you no.”

Kylo’s hands flew to his wrists. Before Hux could process what was happening, Kylo effectively had him pinned. Kylo didn’t say a word, but Hux could hear him breathing heavily through his nose right next to Hux’s ear. He struggled a little, just to feel Kylo’s grip tighten, to feel the effort that Kylo put into holding him still.

Kylo ran one hand up Hux’s chest, squeezing him roughly.

“I bet I could do whatever I wanted to you. As long as I was holding you down, I bet you could come from it.”

Hux’s breath caught.

“Yeah, I think I’m right. I bet I could get you off just with these.” Kylo grabbed roughly at his pecs.

Hux shook his head. Kylo huffed out a laugh next to his ear, and Hux felt a shiver go down his spine.

“Nah, I think I can.”

Kylo’s breath was heavy as he groped Hux through his sweater. His other hand was holding Hux’s hands firmly in his lap. Hux squirmed and felt Kylo’s erection press into his lower back. The realization that he turned Kylo on—that Kylo had been sitting there, feeding him marshmallows while thinking about touching him this way—made Hux moan. He could feel a slick, wet patch spreading on the inside of his underwear, the head of his dick rubbing against it as he struggled in Kylo’s grip. God, he was hard.

He managed to twist one of his wrists free, and Kylo used both hands to pin him once again.

“You little shit,” Kylo said, wrapping his legs around Hux’s in what felt like a wrestling hold. He rubbed his hand roughly over Hux’s erection in his jeans. “Such a fucking _slut_ for it.”

Kylo roughly pulled Hux closer toward his body, pinning his hands in his lap again. Hux’s breathing was harsh, and his eyes rolled back in his head as Kylo shoved a hand up under his sweater and t-shirt. When he brushed his fingers over Hux’s nipple it was surprisingly gentle, considering how tight his hold was. Every other breath Hux took came out as a moan.

Kylo teased him, softly touching with the pads of his fingers, the ghost of his nails, slowly building in intensity. Hux gave up on struggling and began moving in time with Kylo’s fingers, his hips lifting every time Kylo pulled or pinched. Just when the novelty of the sensation started to wear off, Kylo shifted his attention to the other side, starting the whole process again on his other nipple. By the time he was pulling and twisting—roughly at this point—Hux was out of his mind.

“Are you going to come for me like this? Hm?” Kylo breathed in his ear.

Hux shook his head again. It felt good, it felt amazing, it felt like it _should_ get him off, but it wouldn’t. It was like the one time someone had rimmed him—it drove him higher and higher but it wasn’t enough.

The hand which still had Hux’s wrists pinned in his lap now pressed against the crotch of Hux’s jeans. It was hardly anything—just the underside of Kylo’s wrist rubbing against him through layers of denim and cotton, but he was so close. A few thrusts against Kylo’s arm and Hux came, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly he saw stars. Kylo continued to twist and pinch at his chest, until Hux was twitching in his grip. For a second it seemed like Kylo was going to continue, that he would keep rubbing and twisting even as Hux tried to pull away, but then he stopped.

Hux let his full weight fall against Kylo’s chest, panting and boneless.

“Told you I could do it.” There was a smirk in Kylo’s voice.

“You, ah, you cheated.”

“I don’t think so, it looks like I won.” Kylo rubbed a finger over the wet spot that was seeping through the front of Hux’s jeans.

“Shit,” Hux said, swatting Kylo’s hand away.

Kylo abruptly stood, and Hux let out a squawk as his back support disappeared.

“Let’s go swimming,” Kylo said, pulling off his shirt and pants.

“It’ll be freezing!”

Kylo just grinned at him, naked and standing beside the bonfire with his hair down, like some kind of caveman. He turned and sprinted toward the bay, letting out a yell as the water surged up to meet him.

Fuck it, there was nothing interesting to do by himself on the beach anyway.

Hux stripped down, grimacing at the state of his underwear, before timidly walking across the sand to meet Kylo. Kylo whooped when he saw him and splashed him when he thought Hux was being too slow. Hux let out an undignified squeal and a string of profanities, his voice a few octaves higher than he’d ever allow himself to speak in normally. Kylo scooped him up and Hux wrapped his legs around him, only their heads and necks above the surface. Hux’s face hurt from grinning. Soon the sun would start to set, and Hux could not remember a happier day in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. “This is Victory Day—it’s much worse.” — my own bias is showing here—I am not a fan.   
>  Victory Day celebrates the Soviet triumph over Nazism during WWII, and has become pretty agressively nationalistic. My first year in Russia, I was curious and tried to join in the celebrations (there are huge parades in the center of the city) and was cursed out for being a foreigner.  
>  Despite my personal misgivings, there are some very interesting traditions attached to the holiday, which are worth checking out. One is to [carry portraits for your family members who died in the war](https://images.moneycontrol.com/static-mcnews/2018/05/2-victory-day-parade.jpg). There is a whole field of history on Soviet remembrance and nostalgia. A book that has been on my to-read list for awhile is Svetlana Boym’s [The Future of Nostalgia](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/75902.The_Future_of_Nostalgia), which would be a great place to start if you are interested in learning more.
>   2. Dacha — A dacha is essentially a cottage. It’s most often translated as “summer home,” but in my opinion, this summons connotations of butlers and polo ponies. Dachas are my favorite places in the world. City dwellers take part in a mass exodus on public holidays to escape to the countryside. You go far enough away to have a good excuse not to check your phone, and get to relax. The air is fresh. Someone finds mushrooms. You make a bonfire and drink beer.  
>  Unlike most cottages I’ve been to in the West, it’s not a given that a dacha will have heating or running water. Most often they are built on rather small plots of land with neighbors closeby, so there isn’t the expectation of privacy that you might normally associate with a cottage.   
>  My experience in Russia is that a much larger number of people own property/their own apartments than in the West. Almost none of my Western friends are home-owners, whereas a rather large percentage of my Russian friends are. It’s not unusual for someone in a friend group to have access to a family dacha, or know someone who does.   
>  Katya’s dacha is based on a friend’s place. I couldn’t find a perfect image for what I had in my head, but [this](https://img.the-village.ru/l56J-hP1Q-bC5fniqBRGA0kS0osNX9VSLnX2eMPN9kE/rs:fill:620:415/q:88/plain/post-image_featured/qIbIxCOzeq2dJlM68yFsuw.jpg) comes pretty close.
>   3. Jars of juice — [Here](https://img2.zakaz.ua/1001PX.1417084105.ad72436478c_2014-11-27_vitaliy/1001PX.1417084105.SNDDE581.obj.0.6.jpg.oe.jpg.pf.jpg.1350nowm.jpg.1350x.jpg) is what they look like, and in Kylo’s defense, they are pretty exciting. (Three litres!! Incredible!)
>   4. Pickles — Also very exciting! Russian pickles come in a billion different varieties, which I found to be incredibly intimidating at first. I love the [massive jars](https://static.1000.menu/img/content/20634/-mar-ogur-s-pom-assorti-pomidory-ogurcy-marinovannye_1495540482_1_max.jpg) filled with tomatoes and cucumbers. 
> 



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one, folks! This one is, predictably, more porn.

“Absolutely not,” Hux said in an undertone, staring at the same word on the page he was reading.

Kylo’s hand paused, before slowly continuing to move up Hux’s thigh.

“Are you fucked?” Hux asked. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”

Kylo’s hand retreated, and Hux’s gaze remained fixed on his book.

“Will you slip your shoes off and let me look for a minute?” Kylo asked, his breath warm next to Hux’s ear. “You are so hot. I need to go to the toilet and jerk off—I want to be able to picture it.”

“You’re an animal.”

“Please, Hux. I’m so turned on, I can’t concentrate.”

“That is not my problem.”

Kylo groaned, before grabbing his phone, pushing his chair back, and heading for the washroom.

There was no part of Hux that was interested in following. Pasha had been determined to convert Hux to exhibitionism, but even his intensive efforts had failed. Seeing Kylo all hot and bothered had done nothing for Hux in the very un-sexy context of the library.

However, the idea of Kylo jerking off to pictures of someone else’s feet was abhorrent.

Hux quietly slid his chair back and pulled out his phone, faking nonchalance. Glancing around he toed his socked feet out of his shoes and experimented with his camera, before sending a shot to Kylo. The reply came almost immediately.

_fuck_

_please_

Hux pulled up his pant leg ever so slightly to show a sliver of skin above the sock and sent another picture. He truly did not understand the appeal. They were just regular socks, and his ginger leg hair stuck out strangely from this angle.

_fuck yes_

_god u r so hot_

_take ur socks off_

Having one of his hands occupied had not improved Kylo’s texting. Hux wondered if Kylo had ever texted him while jerking off before.

Hux glanced around the reading room. Taking his shoes off was one thing—it was a strange thing to do in a library—but taking off his socks here would be disgusting. For the life of him, he did not understand why this was interesting to Kylo.

_plz_

Hux decided to compromise. He shot a video of his toes curling into the carpet, his one foot running over the other. It was maybe ten seconds in all. He watched it once, and it was just as strange and lacking in sensuality as Hux had suspected. He sent it to Kylo just the same.

_oh fuck_

_u r so fuking hot_

_i want to suck on them_

Hux rolled his eyes. He could admit that there was something intoxicating to being wanted so badly. He felt powerful, evoking such a strong reaction from Kylo with a part of his body that he paid no mind. Hux put his phone aside and went back to his book, but didn’t bother to put his feet back into his shoes. He couldn’t concentrate. After a minute he saw the screen light up and checked it immediately.

_ill do anything_

_plz_

_no socks_

Hux bit his lip. He couldn’t think of a way he could do this without drawing attention. He could get the socks off, but putting them back on would prove a challenge. Fuck it.

Pretending to focus on his book, Hux used his big toe to push the first sock off his foot. The second one was easier. Not looking around, he clumsily knocked his pen off his desk, hoping it didn’t look too deliberate. Reaching down to pick it up, he swiftly stuffed his socks into his pants pockets. At least now he didn’t have to worry about getting them back on in a hurry.

With his feet bare in the Lenin Reading Room, Hux sat back and reached for his phone. He snapped a quick picture and sent it to Kylo. He saw the checkmarks that indicated Kylo had read his message but got no response. Disappointing.

Upping the ante, he took another video. Kylo viewed the message immediately, but there was still no response.

Miffed, Hux stuffed his feet back into his shoes. Now he had to deal with the stuffy and scratchy feeling of his bare feet against leather. Fucking infuriating.

Kylo walked back into the reading room, visibly more relaxed that he’d been when he left. Hux wondered if other people could tell he looked post-coital, or if it was just because Hux knew him so well.

Kylo sat down and pulled his laptop back toward him. Hux shot Kylo a glare as he leaned over into Hux’s personal space and grabbed his pencil.

 _That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen,_ Kylo scribbled in the margins of Hux’s book. Hux snatched back the pencil and furiously scratched the note out. He tried to convey annoyance, but Kylo just grinned at him.

* * *

Kylo seemed determined to make the pictures worth Hux’s while. Standing together on the metro, Hux didn’t miss the fact that Kylo drew himself up to his full height, holding onto the overhead bar and looming unnecessarily over Hux. When a seat became vacant nearby, Kylo insisted that Hux take it—like he was the fucking girl—and stood over him imposingly until their stop.

The minute they were inside Kylo’s apartment, Kylo pushed him up against the wall, frantically pulling his jeans open and rubbing Hux through his underwear. Hux wasn’t even hard yet, but Kylo didn’t seem to care, biting at his neck and grinding his body into Hux as if he was desperate for it.

Kylo sank to his knees and blew Hux right there in the hallway, not even bothering to take his coat off until the sleeves started to get in the way. He pinned Hux’s hips to the wall with enough force for it to be painful, but in that moment, with Kylo’s mouth on him, it felt incredible. The harder Hux pulled on Kylo’s hair the more enthusiastic Kylo seemed to become. Hux came with the realization that Kylo was the paragon of the English word “cocksucker.” The fact that Kylo seemed to revel in it made everything feel that much dirtier.

His knees threatened to give out as Kylo tucked his dick back into his pants. Before he could react, Kylo stood and scooped him up as if he were a bride. Hux yelped, first out of shock, and then out of fear, as Kylo awkwardly manoeuvred them onto the couch. He sat down, positioning Hux on his lap. Kylo pushed Hux’s coat off his shoulders and threw it on the floor, before wrapping his arms around him. He kissed Hux once, softly on the lips.

“We’re still wearing our shoes,” Hux protested weakly, trying to move his feet off the couch. “I’m going to get dirt all over your nice couch.”

Kylo snorted, before reaching over and sliding Hux’s shoes off, dropping them on the floor. His feet were still bare from his photo session at the library, and Kylo stroked them in adoration.

“What happened to your socks?”

“They’re in my pockets.”

Kylo let out his bark of a laugh, before shifting and gathering Hux closer to him. Hux lay his head on Kylo’s shoulder.

“Babe, you are something else.”

Hux disliked the pet name but he was far too content with the cuddling to object. The two of them sat there in silence for a while, Kylo’s thumb rubbing circles on Hux’s hip.

“Why do you like them so much? The feet thing?”

“I don’t know… We had this movie on VHS growing up, and there’s this one scene of an actress in a red dress. At the beginning you get to see her shoes. Watching that was the first time I ever got hard. I remember rewinding and watching that ten second clip over and over and over again. My dad caught me at it once and joked that I would wear out the tape. Pretty sure he thought I was looking at her breasts though.” Kylo laughed.

Hux hadn’t expected it to be related to a woman, which was an unpleasant surprise.

“How did you realize you were gay?” Hux asked.

“I’m not sure I realized, I think I always just knew. It wasn’t a secret. My parents guessed. How about you?”

“I looked it up in the encyclopedia.”

Kylo laughed, but Hux had been serious.

“You—what?”

“I knew that I was strange, that something about me wasn’t right. On some level, I also knew I couldn’t ask or tell anyone about it. We had these old Soviet encyclopedias on the shelves in our living room, and every time my parents were out I would look up any term that I could think of that might explain what I was. Eventually, I found the term ‘homosexual.’ It was listed as a crime and a pathological condition, but I didn’t care. It was enough to know I wasn’t the only one. My father always complained that Saint Petersburg was full of artists and faggots, so I applied to go to university here.”

Kylo was quiet for a while, and Hux calibrated the rhythm of their breaths.

“What did you do next?” Kylo asked. Hux snorted.

“Got into bed with the first man who would have me. Back in the day, gay bars could advertise relatively openly, and I had sex with the first person who propositioned me at one. He was an awful man, but I begged him to stay with me. It lasted for months.”

“Was he your first?”

“Yes, and it was terrible. All he was interested in was anal sex—him on top, of course—and he didn’t give a shit about me. I was so desperate that I let him have whatever he wanted. It was painful, and after that relationship ended, I never wanted to have anal sex ever again. Turns out he was cheating on me, and directly after we broke up, he got gonorrhea, which was the closest I have ever come to proof of God.”

Hux felt Kylo turn to look down at him and smiled at his own joke. Kylo’s expression was very serious.

“I’m really sorry that happened to you.”

“It’s alright.” Hux buried his face back into Kylo’s neck. “What was your first experience like?”

“It was ah, in a public park.”

“Oh my God, Kylo.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We were teenagers and we didn’t have anywhere else to get into trouble. A group of us were drinking, and a bunch of people had gone off to try and get us more beer, or make out in the bushes, I don’t remember. Anyway, I was sitting there on the playground equipment with this other guy. Out of nowhere, I told him I had a foot fetish. I’d never told anyone before, but we were both a little drunk, and he was hot. I think at that point I just really wanted to tell someone, and I suspected that he was gay.

“He asked me a bunch of questions and had me describe what I would do. I could tell he was getting into it. Finally, he said ‘alright, then do it.’ He took his shoes off and let me rub and smell his feet. I remember sucking on his toes while he rubbed me off with the other foot. I came like that in my jeans, and we then had to pretend that nothing had happened when our friends came back. We never talked about it again, but any time we’d hang out in group settings, he would make sure to place his feet where I could see them.”

Hux felt a twinge of jealousy that Kylo’s first had been someone who seemed to share—or at least, more than tolerate—his fetish.

“And the first time you had sex?”

“With a man or a woman?”

Hux stared up at him, dumbfounded.

“You have had sex with women?”

“Yeah. Still do. Well, not right now, but in general, yeah.”

Hux froze, before extricating himself from Kylo’s lap and standing up.

“I don’t understand—why would you try and sleep with men if you could just have sex with women? How do I know you wont just… just decide tomorrow that you’d rather fuck a woman and break up with me?”

“What? Hux, be reasonable, I’m bisexual, not a monster. I’m not just going to break up with you just because—” Kylo reached for Hux’s hand where he stood beside the couch, but Hux pulled it out of his grip.

“How the fuck—do you just like me because I’m—because I look like a woman or something? When we fuck are you imagining me with tits and a cunt? Is that it?”

“Hux, Jesus Christ! I don’t want you to be a woman, I love you just as you are!”

Silence rang out in the small apartment.

“Did you just—”

“You don’t have to say it back.” Kylo’s face had gone red. “I know its not… I know it’s still early.”

Hux stared at him. He felt the world expand and contract around him, and he ran the last few seconds through his head, trying to make sure he hadn’t misheard. Hux had always pictured confessions of love as the kinds of things that happened over champagne and rose petals, not on accident during an argument with his socks in his pockets.

He placed one knee on the couch, and then the other, straddling Kylo’s hips as he sat down. He kissed Kylo firmly.

“I’m still angry,” Hux said.

“Okay.”

“I’m not going to forget about it just because you…you said that.”

“Okay.”

Hux kissed him again.

“Can we get sushi tonight?” Hux asked. Kylo laughed.

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

Kylo pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and unlocked it, handing it to Hux.

“I am… the same. I feel the same about you too.”

Kylo smiled brilliantly, his eyes crinkling around the corners as he tucked some of Hux’s hair back behind his ear.

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) “I looked it up in the encyclopedia.” — I could have sworn that I read a story like this in Francesca Stella’s   
>  _  
>  Lesbian Lives in Soviet and Post-Soviet Russia,   
>  _  
>  however, when I went to locate the exact quote, I couldn’t find it. If I come across it again, I’ll update here with a link.  
>    
> Basically, Hux’s account of finding out about homosexuality from an encyclopedia is based on a true story.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! One chapter to go! It's going to be a while before it updates though — I am still wrestling with it.
> 
> Head up on this chapter: content warning for suicidal ideation.

Hux was crushed by the knowledge that they only had a few months left. He would spoil his own mood thinking about it, and then lash out at Kylo. For his part, Kylo seemed to have accepted Hux’s mood swings as inconsequential. Hux would call him a fucking idiot, and Kylo would shrug and say “Ok” and that would be the end of it. Kylo’s ambivalence was infuriating. Following these one-sided arguments, Hux would panic at the thought of wasting time and drag Kylo to bed. He’d let Kylo do whatever pervy shit he wanted with Hux’s feet, which may have explained how Kylo maintained such a good mood in the face of Hux’s temper.

He had Hux tucked in close to his chest in bed and was absently stroking his hair. 

“I’ve always wanted to live in London,” Kylo said.

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah. I mean, that way I won’t have to fly back and forth all the time.”

Hux felt lightheaded.

He had avoided spending too much time fantasizing about his life if he was accepted into this program; he had no intention of jinxing anything. The same went for Kylo—it was too painful to hope. Kylo had given him no indication that he ought to, so he hadn’t.

Apparently, Kylo had been operating under an entirely different set of assumptions. Here he was, not only imagining Hux living in London, but maybe even them living together. As boyfriends. Able to hold hands in the street.

If any of his fellow students asked, Hux would be able to say that he had a boyfriend. He’d be able to show them pictures and brag about how hot Kylo was.

“I’m in love with you,” Hux said quietly. This was his first time saying it in so many words, but he felt that Kylo’s devotion ought to somehow be repaid. Encouraged.

Kylo smiled down at him, that crinkly eye smile he only did when very pleased.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because I have to take a leak.” Kylo unceremoniously pushed Hux off and leapt out of bed, heading to the bathroom.

Hux lay there, unable to stop himself from grinning. Kylo’s phone dinged on the end table, and he glanced at it reflexively. His heart stopped.

_I love you!!!!!!_ Had popped up on the home screen. Another text came through seconds later, a string of emoji hearts. Both texts were from someone in Kylo’s phone as “Rey.” Hux’s heart sank. What were the odds that this was a text from Kylo’s father? Or uncle? No one Hux knew from that generation used that many emojis.

“Who the _fuck_ is Rey?” Hux stood beside the bed, holding up the phone’s screen to Kylo as he stepped out of the bathroom. Hux wanted Kylo to laugh, wanted him to say it was a cousin, or just a friend.

Kylo’s face fell.

“Who.”

“Look, she and I—”

“She!?” Hux’s voice climbed three octaves, coming out more like a shriek. “You have a _girlfriend_ in New York?!”

“No! She’s not—she lives in LA.”

Hux stared into Kylo’s face for a moment, hoping that he was kidding. Seeing no sign that Kylo was anything but serious, he raised his arm and threw Kylo’s phone to the floor. Not stopping to see whether the screen had shattered, he scooped up his clothing and began getting dressed. He was vaguely aware that Kylo was talking to him, could process the pleading tone of his voice, but Hux had tunnel vision. His only mission was to get out of this apartment.

He didn’t bother to put his socks on before shoving his feet into his shoes. Some absurd part of him, disconnected from reality, had the thought: ‘Well, at least he doesn’t have any nude photos of you. Just a video of your bare feet in the Lenin reading room.’

When Hux made to open the door, Kylo reached over him and slammed it shut. He was still talking, but Hux wasn’t hearing a word. Hux turned to face him.

“Let me out.”

“Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

Hux suddenly became aware of Kylo’s size as something dangerous. Kylo could keep him here if he wanted to. Hux felt nothing.

“You were cheating on me, correct? This whole time?”

Kylo’s face reddened. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.

Hux punched him in the jaw as hard as he could. He hadn’t had a lot of space to wind up, and even if he had, Hux never been very good at fighting. Kylo staggered back, clearly more shocked that Hux had punched him than anything.

Hux wrenched open the door and fled the building. He sat in complete and delicate silence on the metro all the way to the end of the line. His studio apartment was dark. He perched on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

He absently realized that he had no food in the fridge. He hadn’t been spending enough time here to even finish a bottle of milk before it went off. 

Hux pulled out his phone and dialed Katya.

“Allo, you coming out tonight?”

“Katyukha—” Hux’s voice broke, and he was humiliated to find himself crying.

“What is it? Where are you? Are you safe?” Hux could hear her going into operations mode, and immediately felt ashamed for worrying her.

“I’m fine, I’m fine—I’m—I’m at home.” He drew in a shaky breath. “He has a girlfriend. In America.”

There was silence on the end of the line.

“I’m coming over. What do you need?”

“I don’t—maybe whiskey. And—and milk.”

Katya didn’t comment on the combination. It took her an hour to travel from the city center, and she arrived wearing her black work T-shirt. Puffy eyed and wretched as he answered the door, Hux was overcome with guilt.

“You shouldn’t have left. Its not so—I’ll be fine.”

“Shush, Petya was there anyway. He wasn’t drunk yet and needed the hours.” Katya stepped inside and set to work. She sat Hux down on one of his uncomfortable bar stools and plunked a cup of spiked tea in front of him, before stripping his bed and tossing the sheets in the wash. Hux could hear her cleaning his bathroom sink before she tidied the rest of his apartment. Hux stopped her before she could put away the paperwork on his desk.

“He needs those—they’re for his project.”

Katya stalked over to the wastepaper basket and made eye contact with Hux as she shoved them in.

“Fuck him. Fuck him to hell, Hux. Fuck his project, fuck his girlfriend. Fuck him.”

Hux felt his shoulders slump as tears started down his face again. Katya came over and pulled him into a surprisingly gentle hug. All Hux could think was that her shoulders weren’t broad enough. With horror, he wondered if any other hug would be good enough for him ever again. Some rational part of his brain acknowledged that this was heartbreak, that everyone experienced it at some point and recovered, but it couldn’t be. Surely—surely if this was run-of-the-mill heartbreak no one would ever make the mistake of falling in love twice.

Katya was softly shushing him and Hux was mortified to hear the sounds he was making. Not the graceful, pitiful sobs that you would hear from an actor on television, but gross, full-body groans, like he was being tortured. He clung to Katya’s shirt and fought for breath.

After he tired himself out, Katya put the cold whiskey-tea back in his hands while she fetched fresh sheets and made the bed. She dragged him into the washroom and forced him to brush his teeth. She shepherded him into bed and gave him a pill to help him sleep. Still in her work clothing, she got into bed and curled herself around him, shushing him again as his shoulders shook silently.

They had built this, he and Katya together. Hux knew enough of her childhood to understand that neither of them had received the type of affection they now gave each other. Learning had been painful, spitting and pushing at each other in clumsy attempts to provide care, but in the end they had come to know one another. He knew that she needed someone to scream at, someone to accept her abuse until she wore herself out. She knew that he needed minding; to be cared for and led like a child until he was able to draw himself up again to his full height. In another age, they might have married; lived together quietly, knowing the true nature of their relationship but loving each other just the same.

Now, Hux just trembled in her arms and let the sleeping pill pull him under.

* * *

Every morning he woke up depressed before he could even remember why. His coworkers gave him a wide berth. It must have been obvious that he was perpetually tired, and his temper was even shorter than usual. It took him twice as long to get anything done, but as he was no longer at the library with Kylo on Thursdays, Snoke had reduced his workload to a tolerable level.

He skipped lunch to avoid running into Kylo in the cafeteria. Hux once thought he spotted the back of his head. He turned around and walked the other way, his heart pounding.

Every night he went home and did nothing. Summer was coming, and the days were getting longer. Hux spent hours on his balcony, chain smoking and scrolling through his phone when he should have been asleep.

He had absentminded thoughts of killing himself, but he didn’t take them seriously. The way he saw it, his brain was just observing his shitty, shitty life and offering all of the available options. Logically, there were three real reasons to keep going: the first was that Katya called him every day. She would never forgive him if he offed himself. The second was that he still hadn’t heard back from LSE, and he wanted to prove Snoke wrong with ever cell of his body. Thirdly, if he killed himself, he would reduce the possibility of sleeping with Kylo again to zero. As things stood now, theoretically there was still a chance.

Finally fed up with himself, Hux called Finn.

“Hey, I’m coming over. Do you want to go out tonight?”

There were muffled noises as Finn moved away from conversation and into the bedroom.

“Ah, Hux, hey, today isn’t great actually.”

“What? Why? You’re always home on weekends.” Hux heard a loud, familiar laugh in the background. “Ah, I see. You have… company.”

“Hux, it’s not—you were our friend first, and normally I would—he’s just already here, otherwise I’d love to have you. Come over tomorrow, alright?”

Hux didn’t go over the next day and he ignored Finn’s incoming calls. He was pissed. He’d expected Pasha and Finn to take Hux’s side. Did they know about the cheating? Had Katya told them? Or had they just heard some bullshit sob story from Kylo? Part of him was burning to call back and yell, pour out all of his aggression and rage at Finn for having betrayed him, for having hidden things and lied to him and kept him in the dark.

But he didn’t. He just sat on his balcony and smoked and spent meaningless hours on his phone.

He couldn’t even jerk off anymore. No one else even interested him. Porn helped, but in those final moments, he would think of Kylo. Each time the memories became staler, like copies of copies. Eventually, he stopped touching himself entirely.

* * *

Not a single piece of evidence of “Kylo Ren” existed online. Before, Hux had not found this overly alarming—now it seemed like a red flag the size of Lake Baikal.

He googled Skazanov, finding his daughter Senator Leia Organa on Wikipedia, which led to a mention of her son. A search for Benjamin Organa on Facebook yielded nothing, but when he found the husband’s surname, he hit jackpot.

There he was, Ben Solo.

Seeing his smiling face was like a punch in the gut. The photo was a selfie, and Kylo’s massive arm was draped around the shoulders of a girl who was kissing his cheek.

His heart in his throat, Hux tapped on the picture for a closer look. She was gorgeous. Slim, brunette, smiling—she clearly had no problem with public displays of affection. Hux clicked through to the next picture. The two of them were wearing coats and hats and holding coffee cups, with an ice-skating rink behind them. The caption informed Hux that they had spent the holidays in New York. A third photo showed a significantly younger Kylo wearing a tux. His hair was shorter, and his ears stuck out awkwardly. She was wearing a formal dress, low cut and sparkling. She wore a corsage. They were posed together by the door, as if someone had taken their photograph before a big event.

Fuck.

He called Katya.

“I found his Facebook profile, and his bitch of a girlfriend. What do I do?”

Katya sucked in a breath.

“Come over. I have some vodka and hash, we can shit-talk her together.”

She greeted him at the door with a shot, which he downed gladly.

They sat together at her kitchen table, silently smoking the hash.

“You know, when I found out he also fucked women I was worried that he would miss pussy and cheat on me.” Katya poured him another shot. “Now I realize that what he missed was dick. Want to see this bitch’s face?”

“Absolutely.”

Hux slid his phone across the table, and Katya looked through Rey’s pictures.

“That fucker,” she said under her breath. “Are you going to message her?”

Hux startled. The thought hadn’t occurred to him. He felt a dark part of himself unfold as he pictured ruining Kylo’s life. He could tell Rey that her boyfriend was a cocksucking cheat, tell Pasha and Finn that he was the grandchild of Anatolii Skazanov, tell Senator Organa that her son had a rampant foot fetish. For a moment, Hux felt the intoxicating power of being able to make Kylo hurt.

He wouldn’t do it.

In that moment, Hux realized that he was still waiting for Kylo to come back. He was expecting Kylo to come crawling, to make everything that happened go away. Hux furiously wiped away tears, grateful that the hash had taken the edge off.

“No. Katya, I… I just want to forget.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

She poked around on his phone for a minute before handing it back.

“You are no longer friends with him on VK and I’ve blocked him on all social media. I blocked and deleted his number from your phone. Does he have your email?”

Dumbfounded, Hux shook his head.

“Good. Now, listen, you are going to want to find him. You are going to want to beg him to come back. I forbid you from doing so. I know you, Hux. I’ve seen you through shit before. You are strong, and you are stubborn, and you have terrible taste in men. The fastest way for you to get over this is to pretend it never happened. When does he leave the country?”

“August.”

“Good, so only two months or so.” She pushed the shot toward him. “You are going to make it through this if I have to drag you with both hands, understood?”

Hux felt tears well up again, this time a mix of grief and gratitude.

“Katyukha, thank you.”

They drank together and neither of them spoke Kylo’s name. For the first time since all of this began, Hux could picture his life again without Kylo in it.

* * *

He got the email while at the office. He stared at it. Read it twice. Read it a third time. He then closed the browser window and went back to work. Right before leaving for the day he read it a fourth time, just to be sure.

He took the metro to the station near Pasha and Finn’s house and called Pasha when he was on the escalator up.

“I got in. I applied to do my master’s at the London School of Economics, and they accepted me. I’m going to London.”

There was a moment of silence on the end of the line before Pasha _yelled_ so loudly that Hux had to pull the phone away from his ear. Pasha was cursing him out in between genuine words of congratulations, and Hux felt a smile start to form at the corners of his mouth. In the background he heard Finn ask what the hell was going on.

“Our favourite motherfucker Hux is going to _fucking_ London! Can you fucking believe it? That bastard, he didn’t even—you didn’t even tell me you’d applied! Jesus fucking Christ, you are such an asshole!”

“I’m coming over. Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Are you shitting me?! Yes, we are going out! Fuck you Hux, this is fantastic!”

Hux was all out grinning by the time he arrived at Finn and Pasha’s apartment. He felt lighter than he had in years. In his whole life. He didn’t give a fuck that he still had to get a visa, it wasn’t important—he was _in_.

He could hear Pasha shouting as soon as he rang the doorbell.

“You fucker, get in here!”

Hux grabbed the back of Pasha’s shirt tightly and buried his face in his neck, grinning so wide that his face hurt. Finn came up and hugged both of them from the side, and Hux realized how badly he had missed this, being touched for some purpose other than consolation.

They ordered pizza in celebration and got drunk on shitty beer. Pasha couldn’t stop calling him a motherfucker in a tone that made it sound like the highest compliment. Finn asked him what he planned to study, and Pasha let Hux get once sentence into an explanation before interrupting.

“Who gives a fuck!? Our boy is going to London!”

They took a cab all the way to the club, because Hux was feeling flush. He was thrilled to tell Katya in person.

“I got in,” Hux blurted out, the minute she opened the door.

Her shoulders sagged and her head dropped, and when she looked up she was smiling ear to ear. With a stab of guilt, Hux realized that she was relieved. Hux hadn’t considered what he would do if he wasn’t accepted into the program, but apparently Katya had.

After the bar closed, the four of them wandered around the city center. Katya was significantly more sober than they were and enjoyed herself considerably less. The white nights were upon them, and the city was eerily quiet and bright in the early morning. They got _pelmeni_ at a twenty-four-hour cafeteria and waited for the bridges to descend and the metro to open.

He woke the next day, hungover, fully clothed, and sandwiched between Pasha and Finn. For a moment he forgot that he had something to be happy about, and when he remembered, he realized that the person he wanted to tell the most was Kylo.

Despite his best efforts to cry quietly, he felt Finn’s arm wrap around him from behind and pull him into a cuddle.

“It’s ok,” Finn whispered.

“I know,” Hux sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“You’ll go to London and forget all about him.”

Hux’s shoulders shook anew. Pasha’s snoring stopped, and he mumbled out a question.

“Hux is going to go to London and find himself a husband,” Finn informed him.

“Damn straight,” mumbled Pasha, “no Americans.”

Hux snorted through his tears, and Pasha slung an arm around them both and dozed off again. The three of them stayed that way until Hux overheated and went to sit in the kitchen.

He drank coffee and stared out the window at the dusty street and mismatched balconies. He would be leaving soon, and somehow that made the mundane parts of his life seem dear. He ate leftover pizza and walked the long way to the metro, relishing in the fresh air despite his hangover.

It felt like a veil had lifted. He was still sad—he didn’t expect that to change—but it was as if he had stepped out of the direct line of fire and could dispassionately observe his own suffering. It felt like he had slowly descended into a fog when his crush on Kylo began, and for the first time in a long time he felt like himself again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. His balcony — Russian balconies tend to [have windows](https://okna.ua/img_all/oknaservicesd/IMG_9465.JPG) in a way that makes them neither inside nor outside. A lot of the time they serve as storage space and a place to smoke. 
>   2. Lake Baikal — the deepest and oldest lake in the world! This lake is freakishly deep, and from what I understand, there is still a lot we don’t know about what is _down there_. It makes the Great Lakes look like puddles. I think about [this diagram](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/53/53/d1/5353d1412da095328877a1b794cdaa52.jpg) a lot.
>   3. White nights — Because Saint Petersburg is so far north, summer days are incredibly long. At one point, night stops feeling like night, and everything has this [unreal glow](https://corinthiahotelswebblob.blob.core.windows.net/production-media-cache/a/d/1/0/b/7/ad10b7a8b5be7b2bc1bfe2d2885f182a49f47371.jpg) to it. My personal experience with the white nights is that the mood of the whole city lifts. Everything feels both metaphorically and literally lighter. It’s wonderful.
>   4. Pelmeni at a twenty-four hour cafeteria — Yum yum yum, [pelmeni](https://cdn.apartmenttherapy.info/image/upload/f_jpg,q_auto:eco,c_fill,g_auto,w_1500,ar_4:3/k%2FPhoto%2FRecipes%2F2020-08-how-to-pelmeni%2FKitchn_SBSGuide_SiberianPelmeniDumpling_0203) are great! Think something along the lines of perogi, but with thinner dough and filled with meat. I’ve translated “stolovaya” here as “cafeteria,” even though it is generally translated as “dining hall” or “cafe.” At your [typical “stolovaya](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSgwLXnkIO2dJxlllUxPNi9x37R2RfFaUe0qA&usqp=CAU)” you grab a tray, select or request whatever food you want, and then pay for it at the end of the line. Reliable and cheap food!
>   5. Waited for the bridges to descend — Saint Petersburg is known as a city of bridges. The city was initially meant to be a “Russian Venice,” and is crisscrossed by canals. During the summer, bridges over major waterways are raised at night to allow ships to pass through. People flock to see the bridges being drawn, and it’s a nice way to spend a summer evening. If you are on Vasilestrovskii island, watch out! If you are on the wrong side of the bridge when it goes up, the only way home will be a long and expensive taxi ride.
> 



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